So we meet again (modern merthur au)
by deathbyinsomnia
Summary: Do you ever feel such a deep connection to a complete stranger that you feel as though you know them from somewhere else, from a long time ago? Arthur felt exactly that when a boy named Emrys walked into his life, and he would never be the same. ***** Rated for language, dirty jokes, and situational mishaps.
1. Not Mere Coincidence

For Arthur, the notion of "soulmates" was stupid and childish. That is, until he met a boy at the pub named Emrys.

...

It was like deja vu, only it felt much harder to put a finger on- when the gangly boy walked into the room and took a seat at the back as though he owned it, Arthur took a look up into the mirror behind the bar and looked back. They had made eye contact, holding it for several seconds before the black-haired boy scrunched his mouth in distaste and leaned his head back against the booth seat.

Arthur didn't believe in soulmates, but he _did_ believe that certain people act as a sort of magnet, drawing people into their vicinity for reasons inexplicable. The look of familiarity when the blue eyes in the mirror indirectly met his was stirring, not sexually of course, but in the way of being off putting. He bought another drink, watching as the figure moved his head to the side and glancing at the door before making the seemingly-painstaking task of removing himself from the seat and out the door into the night air of London.

Arthur looked at his glass, eyeing the liquor in it before turning to watch the door. A figure walked in, slinking through the door like a serpent before taking a seat beside Arthur.

"You seem out of it, mate. What's up?" The man asked, ordering a drink of his own. "Look like you seen a ghost."

"Can I ask something crazy?" Arthur watched the mirror again, half expecting to see that face looking back at him.

"Any crazier than that whole bit about the, what was it again, the Reðasafn?" The man asked, badly masking a smirk.

"Have you ever felt like you met someone before? Not at a party or something, but you just catch a glimpse of someone and you can't help but think you _know_ that person?" Arthur asked, looking at his drink in dismay.

After a few moments, he still found his friend staring at him with an odd look on his face.

"Some girl has gotten to you, innit? Planted some thought in ya head that you're _soulmates_ or some shite like that? Don't tell me ye've fallen for that, Artie. Then I 'll 've lost all respect fer ya." The man chortled, continuing, "Let me guess, ya made some eye contact, ya? Then she waltzes out the room like a bloody fuckin' queen, right? It's psychology, Arthur. Prolonged eye contact makes ya think yer on an intimate level with someone. You don't even listen to Morrison, do ya?"

"This was different." Arthur insisted, but after thinking the better of it, decided to forget the whole mess. Forget the boy. Must've just been some socially awkward twat who can't keep his eyes off a specimen like Arthur when he sees one.

After that, Arthur didn't think about the boy again. Not until morning.

...

Arthur had gotten halfway to work on the tube Friday morning when he realized he forgot the keys to the office at home. He texted his cubicle neighbor and asked her to let him in once she arrived.

He was supposed to be one of the first ones in, but after alerting HR of the situation, the representative told him (in great disdain) to walk around until his cubemate arrived and to make up the half hour by staying late. He agreed without complaint, having an excuse to walk from the tube instead of sprinting all the way to work like he usually did.

The walk was a pleasant one, through a quaint shopping district outside central London, the trees casting soft shadows on the pavement below. Up ahead several paces, he saw a boy with black hair, ears protruding slightly from the side of his head, and a lithe frame. Arthur, knowing better than to sneak up on a stranger, walked faster and faster until he was only a few steps behind. He slowed his gait once he noticed the boy had in headphones. So _that_ was why he didn't turn around, Arthur realized.

Arthur reached out his hand and tapped the boy's shoulder. He whipped around and looked as though he was half-shocked into cardiac arrest. Arthur tried his best to smile in a sly manner but it seemed, (pardon the pun) at face value, to just be mild irritation.

"You're from yesterday," Arthur commented, ever the smooth talker.

"Yes," the boy seemed annoyed. "Ya done?"

"You shouldn't keep headphones in like that so loud, it's dangerous."

"Thanks, _Mum_ , bye." The boy stepped faster, blue flannel shirt flapping in the breeze.

"What's your name?" Arthur asked, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Why?" The boy squinted, crossing his arms, displaying every telltale sign of suspicion.

"Because I feel like I know you... Somehow." Arthur admitted, albeit dumbly, without much thought given to what he was saying.

"Emrys... My name is Emrys." The boy whispered.

"And I'm Arthur, see? Now we know each other." He grinned.

"I believe this is the worst set of pick-up lines I've ever been on the receiving end of." Emrys laughed, shaking the hand off his shoulder and walking again.

"I'll see you again, Emrys. I'm sure of it."

Emrys waved once over his shoulder, putting his headphones back in. " 'I'll see you again,' " Emrys mocked quietly to himself. " 'I'm sure of it.' Madness..."

Arthur smiled, a swell of pride rising in his chest. He knew, deep down, he was right. He had to be. The coincidence was _too_ coincidental. That or his stalker was coy _and_ obvious.

Arthur strolled the rest of the way to the office with leisure, taking time to treat himself to a smoothie before going into work.

...

Arthur's cubemate let him in, quiet as usual, a reserved smile on her face. She always seemed as though she knew more than she let on, quietly plotting something. Often when he would overhear her on her calls with clients, he would doodle images of her as a cat toying with a mouse. Frankly, he had way too much time on his hands.

This slow-paced job of his seemed to drag along, he did write-ups of all the notes taken by each department gave him and made them into readable documents in the online database. After 3 years of this monotonous boredom, he was able to do the work with half of the attention he used to devote to the tasks. He turned his head to the side, noticing his cubemate sighing after a particularly lengthy call.

"Hey, Zelda. You okay?" Arthur asked, scooting his chair back to make eye contact with her. "That call went on for an hour."

"You would think that after 3 months of warning of them that they were falling out of compliance, that they would either fix it or complain to somebody who actually matters instead of me." She sighed, looking back at him. "You never talk to me, just work or sit there in silence. What do you want?"

"Do you ever feel like you've met someone before, even though you know you're strangers?" Arthur asked.

"Strange question," Zelda paused, pulling her blonde hair up in a ponytail. "But sure. I met my best friend for the first time at a frat party that I crashed. He tripped me on his way to the bathroom, made some half-wasted joke about a meeting with a toilet and it made me laugh. It was like I'd known him forever. We go out to a karaoke bar every Saturday night and don't talk much, but it feels easy you know? Effortless. Is that what you mean?"

"Sort of." Arthur leaned closer, "I know we aren't exactly friends but, can I talk to you about it?"

She tilted her head and nodded, "Sure. It gets boring in the cube with no one to talk to. Tell me, Arthur."

Then, for a fraction of a second, he thought he'd felt it with her too. A sense of familiarity. He chalked it up to how much she reminded him of himself once she started talking; the reserved emotions, the stubbornness, the confidence, and the sense of reluctant acceptance of each other as friends. Regardless, he felt that he could trust her, he felt a pull to her like he once had to Finn- a gut feeling that this would make for a good friendship.

"So, in short, I was at the pub waiting for my friend Finley and this boy walks in and-"

"Does this boy happen to have a face, or you know, _any_ features that would distinguish him from a lamp post?" Zelda quipped, causing Arthur to laugh.

"Right, sorry. He, uh, had black hair, blue eyes, kind of a tall gent, lanky and had these ears that stuck off the side of his head. So, anyway, he walks in and just sits down at this booth, it didn't even look like he bothered to make sure anyone was there before he sat down. Then he looked up and made eye contact in the mirror above the bar, it was weird... how can I describe it? You know when it's bright and the light is reflecting off a street sign and makes it impossible to read so you have to squint at it until the lines make sense? It was almost like that. Like I knew him, somehow, but couldn't place it exactly. We stared at each other like that for a few seconds, then he just got up and left."

Zelda's eyes got a glisten in them. A look distinctly similar to when she was the only one to recognize the boss was having an affair with one of the accountants.

Arthur suddenly felt deeply unsettled at the realization. Her expression faded in intensity once she spoke up.

"He knows you." She grinned, sure of herself. "You don't just hold eye contact like that with a stranger."

"Finn said he thinks he might've been trying to pick me up, like making eye contact to give the illusion of familiarity or something. Although he assumed I was talking about a girl."

"That's possible, but highly unlikely. Plus he left right before your friend arrived- that's odd, right?"

Arthur shrugged, putting his face in his hands with a sigh, "Maybe I'm reading too much into this. For all I know he forgot his glasses at home and couldn't see anything, so he just _left,_ or something."

"Maybe." Zelda shrugged as well, becoming silent as she returned to her work.

Arthur could hear the skepticism in her voice, but went back to his own work to get his mind off of it. He didn't even think to mention that he'd seen him again that very morning.


	2. A Familiar Place

Later that afternoon, Arthur left his job and took the long walk to the entrance to the Underground. The sun was not yet setting, but would be by the time he arrived home. He put on his sunglasses, shifting his bag on his shoulder. His mind was lethargic, dwelling on the look of sunlight through the trees, the sound of his shoes on the pavement, the footsteps of those dispersed around him on the street.

He caught a glimpse of the pub he had been to only yesterday, The King's Palace, and took a step in as he unwrapped his scarf from around his neck. He caught a glimpse of black hair in the far corner of the pub and rushed to the other side, sitting down across from the boy he just _kept_ running into.

"Emrys, hello."

Emrys, who had been reading a book while sipping on what was clearly a glass of iced tea, seemed surprised at the sudden voice but not who it belonged to.

"Arthur, right?" He closed the book, eyeing Arthur with a curved brow. "Is there a good reason you keep showing up wherever I am? Or do you just like stalking complete strangers?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Arthur retorted, "First I see you at my favorite pub, then you're heading the same direction as me when I am headed to work, now you're here again even though you didn't even order alcohol or food. Which, speaking of, you didn't yesterday either."

"Good job, Sherlock, you've found that I don't drink alcohol here even though I patron. Genius." He grimaced, rolling his eyes.

"Anyway, I was hoping I would find you here."

Emrys looked concerned as he leaned forward, "Why is that?"

"I told you, I feel like I know you somehow. It's bothering me. Are you sure you don't know me from somewhere?" Arthur asked, suddenly feeling tired.

"I don't, now if you'll excuse me-" Emrys started, packing his things up.

"No, I'll go. I bothered you, you were here first. Sorry, uh, goodbye Emrys." Arthur insisted, standing up and taking his leave.

Emrys said nothing, going back to his book, unable to shake the distracted expression from his face as he read.

...

Arthur arrived home, scratching his black lab puppy on the head as he passed through the threshold. Arthur never talked baby-talk to his dog, which unnerved some of his friends like Finn, but he didn't like it much.

"Hey, Wade, did you vacuum the floor like I asked?" Arthur inquired, taking a look at the clothes scattered haphazardly in parts of the room. Wade wagged his tail excitedly, watching him dumbly. "You didn't, did you? I can always tell."

Arthur laughed, roughing with it for a few moments before changing into some lounging clothes. Then he and his dog laid on the couch and watched television, after an hour or so of the show he was watching he heard a ding from his phone. He reached to the side table and grabbed it, a text message displaying on his phone.

 _Arthur. It's Emrys. Hi._ \- Unknown Number

He stared at the phone in shock when another message came through.

 _Your phone number is on your public facebook, in case you're wondering._ \- Unknown Number

Arthur cracked a smile, saving the contact number before sending a message of his own.

 _And here I thought I made a bad impression. -_ Sent

 _You did, you prat. But you seemed hung up on this, I thought I'd throw you a bone._ -Emrys

 _Didn't mean to weird you out, but I swear I feel like I know you. It weirds me out too._ -Sent

 _Just stop following me, then we'll be good. Lol_ -Emrys

 _I bet you aren't even laughing_. -Sent

 _You caught me. I didn't even smile_. -Emrys

 _Disappointing. I bet you laugh like an ass._ -Sent

 _Better than looking like one, Arthur. Goodnight_. -Emrys

 _U too_ \- Sent

Arthur looked to his dog, sound asleep as the television played more Midsomer Murders reruns. Adjusting his neck more comfortably on the couch he laid down to go to sleep.

...

 _He dreamed of a lake, and as Arthur peered into the water from the bank he couldn't see the bottom. It seemed to go on forever. On hands and knees he reached out a hand into the water and saw a yellow light glowing from the depths. Reaching out as far as he could, something touched his fingertips and he pulled a sword from the water._

 _He could feel its heft, feel the craftsmanship and detail on the hilt of the blade. The color of the blade was untarnished and the edges still sharp. He felt the name of the sword come from within him and steal a breath to speak its name, "Excalibur. You have returned."_

 _Running his fingers along the blade, his awareness came to him within the dream. Where was he, why was he here, and what was this blade? He closed his eyes and the sword disappeared from his grasp. When he reopened his eyes, the dream had changed. He was in a forest surrounded by dense rings of trees, trees reaching so high he couldn't perceive the tops of them. He stood and reached out to touch one of the trees but it turned to dust under his touch. One by one they all seemed to disappear, and finally when there was one remaining he touched it and it felt solid. It felt real to him. He leaned his forehead against the tree, breathed in and-_

...

His alarm blared, causing him to yell in frustration. The dog looked up from his bed with a sour look.

"Sorry, Wade. Bad dream."

The dog left the room and went into the kitchen only to flop loudly on the floor in there instead. Arthur felt like he knew those things from his dream, seen it all before, but the details faded more and more with every waking moment.

"What the hell was that all about?" Arthur grumbled, getting up to start his day.


	3. Two of A Kind

Arthur went into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, stepping over Wade to reach the coffee maker. As he waited for the coffee, he put some bread in the toaster and grabbed an orange and some jam from the fridge. He had finished his breakfast and had the last bite of orange in his mouth when his phone beeped.

He stepped over his dog again, almost tripping over him, and picked up his phone. Apparently the battery had run down during the night. He plugged the phone in, checking the time. 8am.

Looking around, he knew the only real chores he had to do today was to tidy up the house, wash his clothes, and look at getting a bookshelf. He had not unpacked much of his things since he moved in years ago. Sure, most of his clothes were unpacked and some other essentials like his beloved coffee maker and telly, but he started at his job just after moving in. His life seemed almost entirely made up of his work, then returning home only to recover from the fatigue that his job gave him.

He took his time in the shower, humming along to a song he remembered from childhood. His eyes opened in shock as he remembered a quiet voice whispering to him, but he was unable to place the exact words. All he could tell was that it felt important.

His mind turned to Emrys again, remembering he hadn't checked his text messages since the night before. Arthur stepped out of the shower and changed into some comfortable slacks and a sweater for his outing later. He picked up clothes around the flat as he made his way to the living area where his phone was charging. He put all the clothes in a basket by the washer, taking a look at the fairly clean floor that had been underneath all the clothes.

Satisfied, he started his load of laundry and decided to text Emrys.

 _Good morning_. -Sent

 _You're up early._ -Emrys

 _It's 9am, that's not very early. Are you not a morning person? -_ Sent

 _Wouldn't say that, I just didn't peg *you* as a morning person_. -Emrys

 _I'm not, but it gives me more time during the day if I wake up at the same time consistently._ -Sent

 _Do you wanna do something today_? -Emrys

Arthur was taken aback, he had figured that the boy was only tolerating him at this point.

"Guess not," Arthur muttered to himself.

 _Yeah, sure. What did you have in mind?_ \- Sent

A few minutes passed, long enough time for Arthur to grow uncomfortable. Eventually, he sought out his dog to play fetch with him from his spot on the couch. After a few tosses he got a notification, and he patted the couch for the dog to sit with him. Wade jumped up and flopped across his lap, Arthur laughed as he pried his arms from under the dog's heavy body.

 _Did you have anything you had to do today?_ -Emrys

 _Not really, just go to the shops, see about maybe getting a bookshelf. Why?_ -Sent

 _How about I go with you?_ -Emrys

 _It would probably be boring_. -Sent

 _What's your address? I can head over now. I'm walking about, anyway._ -Emrys

Arthur sent the address, a little nervous about sending his home address to a relative stranger but swallowed his suspicions as unfolded his clothes drying racks for when his clothes finished washing. He wanted to put the racks outside, but the cold westher forbade it. It wasn't until after he got halfway through an episode of Twin Peaks, hanging his clothes as he watched, that he heard a knock at the door.

He answered the door to see Emrys with a scarf wrapped tightly around his neck and a thick leather jacket on that seemed a few sizes too large. Arthur stepped aside to invite him in, as Emrys unwrapped his scarf and looked around, his expression became confused. Arthur closed the door behind Emrys as he stepped in, eyeing his dog out of the corner of his eye.

"Did you just move in?" He asked, noticing the dog glancing around the corner at him with a wary expression.

Wade eyed the two suspiciously, his tail wagging slowly as he moved quietly towards the two.

"No, a couple years ago, why?"

"This whole place seems... empty, I guess. You barely have any furniture. Before you defend yourself, a telly stand is not furniture, couches are."

Arthur shrugged, he _had_ considered defending himself with that exact excuse.

"I _have_ a couch though," he complained under his breath. "Anyway, I never felt the need to. I work, I come home, it cycles again and again- I rarely miss the things that are still in my boxes."

"We need to fix this." Emrys insisted, reaching out and petting the dog. Wade leaned against Emrys's touch excitedly, panting. "Let's do this today."

"Really?" Arthur asked skeptically, "This is how you want to get to know me?"

"Best way to get to know you, Arthur. Where should we start?" Emrys asked, looking around and eventually settling on a box labelled CDs. "This is as good a place as any."

Emrys took a seat by the box in the corner, inviting himself to opening the box and pulling out the packing wrap. He took a moment to pull all the disc cases out in handfuls before really taking a look at them. Arthur watched with interest, idly picking up a few stray bottles strewn on the floor by the couch.

"Let's see..." Emrys began, putting them in stacks alphabetically. "The Monkees, always a good choice-"

"Piss off," Arthur laughed, tossing his rubbish in the bin.

"That wasn't sarcasm," Emrys defended, focused on the task at hand. "Honestly. I also like Syd Matters too and... Wait, is this a Metallica album? Indeed, it is. You have quite the spectrum here, Arthur."

He turned the cds over, looking at them with deep interest. Arthur (having been distancing himself since Emrys walked in) now felt comfortable enough to sit near him, but not beside him. He watched him and after a while caught sight of Wade flopping beside Emrys, begging for attention. Which seemed odd to Arthur, Wade was not keen to be near strangers, yet here he was throwing himself at Emrys.

"My dog seems to like you," Arthur commented, starting to sort some of the cds as well; although he reminisced more than he contributed to the task.

"Most animals take a liking to me," Emrys uttered, absently petting the dog as he read the back of a cd by an indie-released band he never heard of before. "I'm like a magnet sometimes. I take care of a lot of stray cats near my flat for that reason, even though I have several of my own."

"How many?" Arthur asked, musing over an old Queen album he held fond memories for.

"Seven," Emrys muttered, "Most are strays I rescued, I can't fit any more in the flat without someone complaining or I'd take them all in."

"How do you clean up after them all?" Arthur asked, shocked enough to turn his full attention to Emrys.

"They go out when they need to." Emrys answered, turning his nose up to some nu-metal band he dispised. "So it looks like your taste isn't completely flawless."

"That's subjective," Arthur elbowed Emrys, causing the taller boy to wince, making him chuckle.

"You're such a prat." Emrys laughed quietly to himself.

"So... Emrys. Why are we hanging out right now, really?"

He went quiet for a moment, petting the dog before responding to Arthur. "You said you'd met me before, know me somehow, without ever meeting me before. Maybe... I feel something like that too. Maybe, I want to believe that's true. I've been alone a long time, Arthur. It's stupid, but if I grasp at this... Maybe I can have a friend, for the first time in years."

"You're not exactly boorish," Arthur joked, "why no friends?"

"I... keep to myself. I work from home, after all. I don't get out much. It's mostly just me, my books, the tv, and the cats."

"You seemed pretty at home at the pub."

"I go there sometimes to get something to eat that doesn't come out of a box. I go certain days a week, the owner saves the booth for me days he knows I'm coming. He brings me one of the three dishes I eat there and doesn't rush me out the door. He's nice."

Looking at the distant look in Emrys's eyes, it made him feel a sense of pity. "Well, if you want I can have dinner with you there on days you're there when I'm on the way home from work. It's a pain to cook every day."

"I'd like that." Emrys whispered quietly, a sad smile tugging the corners of his mouth.

* * *

 _A.N._  
 _Fair warning, I am bad about name/band-dropping as you can see above. Anyway, you have been warned._


	4. Tonight, Tonight

They finished the box, each stack alphabetized, and a silence fell between them. It wasn't uncomfortable, per se, but Arthur felt Emrys wasn't saying something, something he needed to say. What, he wasn't sure, but something.

"Wanna go get that bookshelf, so we have something to put these on?" Arthur asked, eyeing the window outside. The weather was cloudy, predictable for London.

"Sure," Emrys whispered, helping Arthur take each stack to the kitchen table in order so they could put it directly on the shelf. "I'm assuming we're taking your car?"

"Yeah," Arthur nodded, "though, most of the time it ends up being a very expensive paperweight. What with public transit and all."

Emrys nodded, "Okay. Mind if I use the, uh-"

"Down the hall, left side; make sure you use the pump and not the bar, the soap bar is to clean faces only. I'll get my stuff and meet you at the car, just go out the back door, the door locks itself if you twist the notch on the knob."

"Right," Emrys nodded, looking only slightly confused by the sudden slew of instructions, before heading to the loo.

Arthur snatched his wallet and keys, closing the dog in his bedroom with food and water. "Be home soon, boy." He rubbed the dog's head, closing him in.

He started the car with no issue, turning up the station playing Tonight, Tonight by The Smashing Pumpkins. He leaned his head back and relished in the nostalgia. Emrys soon joined him in the car, looking a little more relaxed.

"You can change the station, if you want." Arthur offered, beginning the drive to the nearest budget furniture store.

Emrys shook his head, looking out the window. There was silence for a few songs before Arthur piped up.

"You've gone quiet. Did I do something?" Arthur asked, stopped at a light.

"Not at all. I just..." Emrys paused, his brows furrowing in confusion. "I wonder how you came to realize, I guess, that you felt you _knew_ me somehow. Like, what triggered it?"

"Your eyes," Arthur answered immediately, passing through the turn signal. "Something about them. Kind of like watching a movie you think you've never seen before, but knowing something is about to happen. Does that make sense?"

"I guess," the thin boy responded, tone almost despondent.

"What about you? What triggered yours?" Arthur asked, pulling in the car park of the store. He got out of the car, waiting for an answer.

Emrys stumbled over his words as he tried to keep pace with Arthur's steps in his daze, "Your... stubornness, I guess. You seemed familiar in the face, but that could be anything. You chasing me down though, that seemed... oddly familiar."

"So what should I know about you, Emrys? What do you think is important?" Arthur asked, walking in the shop ahead.

"My name is Emrys Hallewell, I'm..uh..." Emrys paused a moment as an employee welcomed them in, nodding in an awkward fashion that seemed too eager. He spoke again when they were out of earshot, "I'm 23, I am a product tester which is why I work from home, and my parents died when I was young."

"Is that all?"

"Pretty much... I'm not good at embellishing, I guess. What about you?" Emrys asked, no longer bothering to pay attention to the ugly post-modern style furniture surrounding him.

"My name is Arthur Shoemaker-" Emrys interrupted with a uproarious laugh, causing Arthur to heat in the face with the unwanted attention of other customers. "What's so funny?" he hissed.

"That name is so laaaaame," he laughed, enphasizing the A as he drug out the word between giggles.

"I'm 25 and I... Well, basically I transcribe notes for my superiors and that's all I do every day at work. My parents are both alive but we're... I guess you can say _estranged_. We haven't spoken in 6 years. They're nice people, I suppose, but we never saw eye-to-eye on a damn thing. Not speaking was just best for everyone, especially since they kicked me out when I dropped out of uni. Salt in the wound and all that."

"Sorry to hear that," Emrys put a hand on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur did not shake off the hand, but shrugged.

"Everyone has their own demons. It was hard at first, not so much now." Arthur assured, Emrys removing his hand and watching quietly as Arthur walked on.

Arthur walked over to a plain bookshelf, painted black, inexpensive, and not well made- but found it to be enough for what he wanted. It was small, about waist high and about a meter across, but could fit in the car assembled and that was enough for Arthur.

"This one," Arthur pointed with his thumb. "Help me carry it up front."

Emrys picked up one side, Arthur the other, and they didn't talk once they reached the line, a calm silence falling between them. They carried the shelf to the car and managed to fit it in with some effort, getting back in the car. Rain started to pour as they left the parking lot.

Arthur's phone rang in the console with a tinny rendition of a popular default ringtone. Arthur, still watching the road, asked Emrys to put it on speaker for him. Emrys showed signs of discomfort but quietly turned on speaker and held it a few inches from Arthur's face.

"Arthur! I know this is short notice but are you busy tonight?" The male voice asked, "Wait, am I echoing? Am I on speaker?" worry tinged in his voice.

"What plans could you possibly have that would need to involve me?" Arthur responded, ignoring him.

"That girl Amy, in accounting, _finally_ agreed to go on a date with me-"

"But? She needs a date for her friend too, doesn't she?" Arthur pulled in his driveway, stopping the car as the rain continued to fall.

"Yeah, how did you-?"

"Because she wanted to be able to bail if she couldn't handle your creepy puppy-dog staring." Arthur rolled his eyes, shooting an unamused expression at Emrys who was unable to surpress a chuckle.

"Who's that? I _am_ on speaker! Dammit, Arthur, I-!"

"I'm with someone right now, Finn. Talk to ya later, mate." Arthur took the phone from Emrys, disconnecting the call.

Emrys watched with interest as Arthur skirted the car to the other side, opening the door. Catching Emrys staring he defended himself with a dismissive gesture, "He's used to me hanging up on him. If you want to stay I can order us something, maybe we can watch a movie or something."

Emrys seemed to drift, taking a deep breath as he watched Arthur trying to lift the bookshelf by himself. He jumped to attention and assisted Arthur taking the shelf inside. The dog made a quiet whining noise from the nearby bedroom as they set the shelf down.

"Do you mind letting Wade out?" Arthur asked, starting to put his things away onto the shelf.

Emrys nodded and once he opened the door, the dog jumped against his chest and knocked him back painfully onto his arse. The dog licked his face apologetically, nuzzling his muzzle against Emrys's cheek. Emrys took a moment to look in the dog's soft brown eyes, smiling to himself. The dog rolled over, exposing his stomach to be scratched.

"Odd. He usually doesn't take to people so quickly." Arthur muttered over his shoulder, watching as Emrys's expression softens as he gingerly stroked Wade's fur.

"What a sweet boy," Emrys whispered to the dog. "Yes you are. Know any tricks?"

"Outside of being housebroken? Not so much." Arthur responded, smiling at the voice Emrys used with his dog.

"Don't listen to that old codfish, Wade. He's lost his inner child." Emrys whispered dramatically, pretending Arthur couldn't hear him. "I'll bet you know lots of tricks, but you don't show him."

"I thought you came to visit me, not my dog." Arthur interrupted with a laugh.

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Arthur?" Emerys smirked smugly, eyeing Arthur.

Arthur blinked a few times, there it was again. That weird sense of deja vu. He had finished packing out one of the shelves and still held a few cases in his hand.

"Wanna watch a film, then? Since you seem to have taken a liking to my dog." Arthur responded, looking curiously at the three titles he held in his hand.

"I don't watch movies very much, Arthur. They tend to bore me. Not enough thinking to do when watching." Emrys admitted, "I'll try it, though. I'm open to anything."

"Okay, then." Arthur nodded, "I've got just the thing."


	5. Movie Night

Arthur promised he would set everything up if Emrys would go in the kitchen and microwave some bags of popcorn. Emrys watched with interest as the popcorn was going as Arthur stood pointedly in front of the TV, successfully blocking his view and retaining the surprise of whatever movie he decided to turn on. He even muted it, in case the dated previews dared to give it away.

Emrys looked, then, out the window and saw a bird perched on the fence, turning its head as it watched him, skittering around some before flying away. Emrys liked birds, he had a pet blue macaw named Archimedes (Archie for short) for a short while before it died and had marveled at how intelligent it was.

 _He still vividly remembered how the bird would miss him and when Archie heard a door open he would always call, "Where are you? Hello?" followed by a whistle or two._

 _"I'm here, Archie." Emrys would always reply, coming into the room to pet the bird's head. "Hello."_

 _"Miss you." Archie_ _would reply, making kissing noises._

"Emrys!" Arthur yelled, snapping him out of his memories. "The popcorn is done, movie is ready, come on!"

"Right, coming!" Emrys exhaled, lately it felt like he was trapped in his head, only living in the past. Arthur and the overwhelming feeling of familiarity wasn't helping.

He walked in to see the screen black, paused right before the beginning of the movie he figured, and Arthur looking like a grade schooler trying to hide his excitement. The side sent warmth blooming in his chest. He plopped beside Arthur, handing him a bag of popcorn.

Arthur began the movie with no preface except, "It's better if I don't explain anything. It's better if you have no idea."

"Will you at least tell me what it's called, how do you know I haven't seen it?" Emrys smiled, knowing that it was very unlikely he'd seen it. He always preferred reading over movies, and on top of that he only ever read non-fiction.

Arthur shushed him, "Even if you have, you've never seen it with me. I'm a joy to watch movies with."

After a fairly interesting voice over in the opening sequence, Emrys grinned and popped a few pieces of popcorn in his mouth, "Never pegged you as a high-fantasy nerd."

"Shhhhhh!" Arthur shushed him, smacking his arm. "This is the best part!" Arthur took on a rigid posture as he mimicked the voice of the narrator from the movie, " 'Sauron, the enemy of the free peoples of Middle Earth was defeated.' I love this movie."

Emrys smiled, "I can tell."

They proceeded to watch the rest of the movie with relative silence save for occasional trivia facts from Arthur and commentary from Emrys. The atmosphere was comfortable, he hadn't felt so relaxed for a while. He had even let Wade fall asleep across his and Arthur's laps, the dog too needy for affection to bother picking one of the two boys. After roughly three hours of uninterrupted movie-watching, the credits rolled and Arthur was glowing with a smug grin.

"So, what did you think?" He asked, waiting to be regaled with praise for the film.

After a moment of thinking, Emrys responded, "The world-building was good, and although the dialogue was heavy-handed at times it did have good characterization and non-verbal expression. I quite liked the dwarf."

"Yes... But did you _like_ it?" Arthur asked, smugness turning into something similar to insecurity. _Did he not like it?_ he thought. _Have I bared my nerd soul too early_? He thought or, well, something kind of like that.

"Yeah, Arthur. I really enjoyed it." Emrys smiled, "glad we got to see it together."

"Wanna watch another one?" Arthur asked, glancing at his phone. "It's only about 3:30, if you want to watch them all I can have you out of here before 10."

Emrys looked at his watch, "Sure, that's fine. I don't like being out too late walking home."

"What about a cab? Or I could drive you home?" Arthur asked, getting up to go to the kitchen, careful with moving his dog's head off his lap.

"I like walking, it's the only exercise I get." he joked, "Besides, I'm gonna grab some street food on the way home."

"If you're hungry, I can cook something," Arthur offered, "frankly I should've asked earlier. I'm making myself out to be a bad host."

"I could cook," Emrys offered, "I'm pretty good at it."

"Are you now?" Arthur laughed, "Then why not cook for yourself at home?"

"I get tired of my own cooking." Emrys shrugged, "want me to put the next one on?"

"Yeah, just make sure you don't watch the previews, they're stacked in order, it's the second one down." Arthur pointed in the vague direction of the TV stand, getting out the ingredients to make spaghetti. "Do you like your spaghetti with or without meat in it?"

"I prefer it with meat, but in small chunks, not meatballs. Most people just unfreeze those when they add them in, I like homemade where I can get it." He added, petting the dog. He didn't have the heart to move the tired pup just yet.

"Makes sense. Wanna help with the cooking? If you're a good cook, you may improve my sad excuse for Italian cuisine." Arthur joked.

Emrys had a flash of confusion, something like deja-vu. He shook it off, moving the dog and getting up to help, "Not sure how much good I can do, but I'll try."

After a few minutes of preparation, they waited for the water to boil with an uncomfortable silence.

"Am I pushing you too much?" Arthur asked candidly, "I pounced you with the whole 'I-know-your-face-but-not-your-name' thing, then I invited you over out of the blue, and now I'm holding you hostage with epic tales of yon. I realize now that I have no idea why you're still here, after all this weird stuff."

Emrys shrugged, "I have no friends, plus, like you said before. I'm comfortable with you, like I know you somehow. It's nice, spending time with you."

He cleared his throat, opening the box of spaghetti, "Water's boiling."


	6. Moving Boxes

And so, Emrys and Arthur stood around the pot as the spaghetti boiled, both leaning against different portions of the counter. Wade padded in, whined to be let out, and then the two shared a pleasant silence.

...

They stayed in silence for the rest of the night, eating their portions of spaghetti and watching the next movie in the series. Once the movie ended, Emrys took the time to help hand-wash the dishes and show Wade some affection before heading to the door.

Arthur walked him out to the front lawn, glancing around at the dark road, "Are you sure you don't want me to drive you home?"

"I'll be fine." He assured, smiling. "I only take lit streets, I walk around at night a lot to think. Nothing has happened to me yet. Nothing that I can't handle, anyway."

"Right, well. Just in case, text me when you get back." Arthur asked, crossing his arms, his tone teetering between joking and sternness. "If you don't text or call in an hour, I will call 999 without hesitation."

"Sure, Arthur. I'll talk to you later." Emrys smiled tightly, waving before walking out to the street and slowly disappearing out of sight.

Arthur watched Emrys walk away and heard Wade whining from the other room and went inside, locking the door for the night. Once back inside, he tidied up the room, not completely satisfied with the boxes still remaining. All in all, though, he didn't mind getting sidetracked. The day spent with Emrys had been laid-back, calm even.

The mood was different with his friends he normally spent his time with. They constantly had to be entertained by something. Whether by drinking, by partying, by watching football on the telly, it was always something.

Although he knew much less about Emrys than his other friends, he felt as though he knew everything he needed to know. Emrys didn't need entertaining, he just kind of existed as though completely at peace with the world. Some older folk Arthur had met in his youth called those types of people "old souls", perhaps that's what Emrys was.

Wandering around the inside of the house, he debated whether or not to give Wade a quick walk.

He decided maybe just a quick stroll around the block, something to calm his nerves while he waited for Emrys to let him know he had gotten home okay. Arthur mentally reminded himself he would definitely drive him home himself next time, even if the boy protested. He pulled out the dog's leash and harness from a hook in one of the closets, strapping the dog up and grabbing his keys on the way out the door.

He walked with a sense of purpose, trying to air out his nerves but eventually slowed down as his calves began to ache. He was out of shape, his day job at the office causing him to lose any motivation to exercise on his downtime. He had used to play football, tennis, even had fencing lessons when he was a boy. As he got older though, he lost the motivation.

He took the dog around the block for another lap before heading home to his flat. Upon walking in the door and unleashing the dog, he sighed. He really would have to finish putting the boxes away soon, he had the space to put away most of what he had from his parent's old house but going through it all was a daunting task.

Memories he didn't want to revisit were in some of those boxes, but with a little over 350 square feet and no attic to his flat, he was having trouble imagining living forever with those unopened boxes. He sat down on the floor in front of a box marked "old trophies", and heaved a sigh. He figured that was a good a place as any to start getting rid of useless things.

...

He'd been at it for nearly an hour, only deciding to keep one trophy after reaching the bottom of the box. He watched it intently, wondering if it would jump out of his hand the moment he blinked. It was the only trophy he was truly proud of after all those years in a box.

In school, he was in the model U.N. for several years and at his last conference before graduation he won the trophy for best delegate. It was one of the proudest moments of his life, and his parents were at work, too busy to be there. He never told them about the trophy, but one of their friends must have told them. Soon after, as he was readying himself to move out somewhere, they gave him the title deed to his very own flat as a gift. One he would've had to save up for years to afford.

Looking back, he realized it had to have been because they knew how strained their relationship was. That he was unlikely to visit or ever talk to them much outside of the occasional phone call. It was their last gesture of kindness, in a way. The thought dampened his mood.

Soon after, getting up to grab some crisps from the pantry, he got the text from Emrys assuring he was home safe. Arthur bid him goodnight over text, and proceeded back to his mountain of boxes. Just one more for the night, he dug through them in hopes of finding something as easy to sort through as his old trophies.

The box seemed to scream for his attention when he caught sight of it, "eve" was written small on the center of the box. He opened the box, only glancing for a moment at what was inside and whispered, "Rubbish." He put the remainder of the trophies in the box, setting the one to keep on the couch, and immediately took the box outside and set it by the road. Going inside to grab a marker, he returned outside and marked the box "take what you want" before heading inside. Someone else would likely pawn the contents of the box, which was fine to him.

Out with the old.


	7. Within the Stone

However, the "in with the new" was still debatable.

He was not so quick as to allow Emrys to be "the new" and immediately let him into his life on a more permanent basis. The curiosity he held from the sense of familiarity was odd, sure, but he wasn't a fool. Lapses in judgement, such as trusting too quickly, is a one-way ticket to be taken advantage of. That, he had experienced enough of for a lifetime.

He remembered Emrys watching the movies intently, clearly wanting to comment but keeping to himself, and found his thoughtful expression endearing. It reminded him of a cousin of his, the small child's face scrunched in thought whenever he was asked a difficult question. Maybe Emrys was a secret fantasy buff, Arthur wondered, but it seemed unlikely to be a fantasy buff and yet not be familiar with a staple of the genre.

He glanced around at the remaining boxes and sighed, deciding to go to sleep instead of dragging any more old trinkets out for the night. He changed his clothes before curling up into bed and facing the wall. As he was falling asleep, he felt his dog jump on the bed and curl into his back which made him smile as he drifted off.

* * *

Sunday, the dreaded day he usually devoted to drinking a bit with Finn and Morrison. Finn, his coworker, and him were pretty close but Morrison was more Finn's mate than Arthur's. Morrison and Finn went to uni together and were roommates while Morrison was getting his doctorate and psychologist certification wrapped up, and likely gave Finn sessions for free.

Typically, they met at The King's Palace and had a few pints and went their separate ways, nary a drunk skunk among them. However, Arthur and Finn got a long weekend off (thanks to someone in HR suggesting an extra day off once every other month would improve morale) it was likely they would be drinking more than usual tonight. And, knowing Finn, Arthur knew he would bring the girl Amy with him if things had gone well last night. Morrison would turn in early due to an early work day tomorrow, and Arthur would be going home alone, per usual.

The group chat usually didn't start to get active until at least 6pm so he had time to spare. He finally got the energy to open his eyes, Wade laying on his stomach in the corner of the room as he ate from his bowl. He glanced at the clock, groaned and stuck his head under the pillow.

"Wade. Why the hell didn't you wake me up earlier bud? How did I sleep through my alarm?" Arthur asked his dog, glancing back under the pillow and noticing the numbers blinking softly. "Ah, looks like a small power outtage hit during the night. I bet you slept right through it too, didn't ya?"

Wade huffed, ignoring him to eat his food in peace. Arthur took that as his sign that even Wade didn't feel like putting up with his shit today. He walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, hair disheveled and eyes glazed, then looked at the analog clock ticking away on the wall. Noon. He hadn't slept so deeply, let alone so long, in months. No dreams at all. Unusual, seeing as even though he never remembered details, he always had dreams at night. He chalked it up to staying up a little later than usual to go through the boxes.

Leaving the bathroom, while rubbing his eyes, he managed to trip on the corner of a box and would have ate carpet if he hadn't caught himself with his arms. He cursed loudly, punching the box aside in disgust.

Wade sat and watched unamused, as if to say _Wow, you really showed that box who's boss_.

Arthur squinted at him angrily, pointing with his finger, "Shut up. Quit it with the face, Wade. It's uncalled for."

He looked around from his spot on the ground. Looked like 6 more boxes to go, thinking back he tried to remember what could be left in the boxes. After lying a few minutes staring blankly, Wade started licking his face and whining to go out.

Arthur got up, letting him into the back yard and going back to make a cup of instant coffee for the sake of getting started as soon as possible. Looking at the boxes over his mug, he decided that the remainder of the boxes were likely old clothes, some photos before he regularly used a cell phone with a camera on it, and some old mementos from his youth.

Once Wade was let back in, he opened boxes one by one that had been dispersed throughout the tight living room. He set items into piles of things he recognized, things that felt important, and the sentimental junk not worth keeping. The process took hours to finish, as well as a small break 3 hours in. Most of the time was spent staring at the old things and deciding if they were worth keeping.

At the bottom of the final box he found a photo of him at about 10 years old (based on the date on the back) at the Sword in the Stone tourist attraction. His class had gone as a fun history lesson.

* * *

 _That day, he had swore up and down he had felt the sword move when he tugged, but everyone laughed._

 _"Yeah, sure, Arthur." Some joked. "The Once and Future King lives in Knightsbridge."_

 _"I'm serious! It moved!" Arthur insisted, tearing up some before becoming angry and the tears fading. "Whatever, who cares what you sods think anyway?"_

* * *

He set the picture to keep, smiling sadly at the memory. He was smiling so happily in the photo, unusual for the stern and subborn boy he was at that age. When he told his parents about the incident, they humored him. Asking if he would let them move into the palace when he took the Queen's place. That felt much worse than when the boys in his class overtly teased him.

He put the garbage in one of the boxes, calling up a donation house for the clothes and old, gently used toys. The momentos he decided to ship to his parents, whether they decided to keep them or not. He wrote a note saying as such and stuck it in the box.

Arthur's phone dinged and upon checking it already found his suspicions confirmed. Finn was bringing Amy from accounting and Morri planned to go home before 10 to get shut-eye. Arthur jumped into the conversation, letting them know he just finished up and was ready whenever they are.

 _Meet you at the Palace at 7_ \- Finn

 _C u there_ \- Morri

 _Yup_ \- Sent

He stood up and dressed quickly, filling up the food and water bowl before opening the dog door for this particular occassion. While Wade preferred to have the door opened for him, he dealt with the dog door for the sake of Arthur's social life. Wade wagged his tail and barked a goodbye as Arthur headed out, going to the couch to lie down until he got back.


	8. Avast Thine Ale

When Arthur eventually arrived, his two friends had already started drinking. Morri was already enthralled in some story he was telling Finn, not paying any mind when Arthur set down to continue his story. Finn gave him a pat on the arm and a gesture for the bartender to bring another drink.

Arthur nearly drank half his mug in one gulp, glad for a moment to let loose. After going through his things and seeing a box of Eve's stuff left over from years before, he wanted desperately to forget he'd even saw it. He had almost forgotten her until he had seen the box. He finished off his glass and ordered another as he leaned against Morri's side to talk to them as the story wrapped up.

"I found a box of Eve's old things today. Was sitting in a box in the flat this whole time, I didn't even notice." Arthur muttered, his lip quirking downward on one side.

"Sorry, mate." Morri frowned, wrapping an arm around his friend's shoulder and giving a light shake as a vague equivalent of a comforting hug. Morri wasn't much of a hugger, but the gesture was welcomed. "What kind of things were in the box, or did you even look?"

"Some of her forgotten CDs, our picture, and maybe some clothes I would guess. I didn't really look, didn't want to." Arthur admitted, "Why _would_ I want to?" Arthur heard the door open and shut lightly behind them, a cold chill being let in as he spun around, "Latch the damn door would y- oh. Hey, Emrys."

"Arthur," Emrys sighed, clearly surprised to see him there. "I didn't know you would be here." He unwrapped his scarf from around his neck, face pale and his ears red on the tips from the cold.

"It's drinking night," Arthur supplied, gesturing to his friends. "Finnley, Morrison- this is Emrys. We kept bumping into each other-like this, oddly enough- so we started hanging out. Emrys, want to have a pint with us?"

"No," he chuckled, almost derisively. "I don't like to drink to be quite honest. I just came to get some bangers and mash, and go on my way."

"Eat at the bar with us," Finn offered, smiling. "Got a guest of my own comin' 'round soon. She's gonna feel like a third wheel, most likely. She doesn't drink much but wanted to tag along and meet the lads. Stay with us."

"Okay," Emrys smiled to himself, sitting beside Arthur. "As long as I'm not a bother."

"Never," Finn grinned. "Arthur, where have you been hiding him? He's got nice eyes."

Morrison tapped Finn on the shoulder and quietly shook his head as if to tell him to reel it in. Too much too soon for an unfamiliar face. Emrys smiled, though, much to Arthur's surprise.

"Thanks." Emrys even looked a little smug, "You're charming, I like you. Finn, right? Think you were on the phone yesterday when we were in the car."

"So that was you. Interesting." Finn side-glanced at Arthur slyly.

Morri flagged down the bartender, ordering Emrys his food and other round for the 3 of them. Emrys sipped on a glass of water as the three talked to each other, with occasional times of input for Emrys. Amy walked in, handbag clenched against her chest.

Spotting the group from the door, she smiled meekly and sat next to Finn, greeting them. Once she sat down, she curled up a little in her seat, rubbing her hands together to warm them. Morrison introduced himself, with his name and occupation then followed by Arthur and Emrys. Amy followed with hers, but shocking the group by admitting her first name.

"Amaryllis? Really?" Emrys asked, "Beautiful name, if not a little unusual."

"Says the guy named Emrys." Amy retorted, grinning with a mock-suspicious squint. "I'm named after a flower. _You're_ the odd one."

Turning to the bartender, she yelled for a plate of fish and chips with a lemonade before pulling out a book and trying to find where she left off.

"Fair enough." Emrys nodded, finally receiving his cooked meal and digging in.

Arthur talked to his friends, Amy and Emrys talking to each other as they ate their food. The night was comforting, the five just enjoying the company.

...

Once it got late, they all got up to leave. Amy promised the group to go home with Finn and see him home safe, who was a little fuzzy but not drunk. She walked him out the door, holding his hand as she lead the way out.

Morrison was unphased, his stature typically able to handle their nights out drinking (but it helped he always sipped on water as he drank). Arthur, on the other hand, was plastered.

Emrys, realising this as Arthur nearly fell stumbling off his bar stool, he declined Morri's offer to take Arthur home and offered to do it himself. All but Arthur already paid to leave.

Morrison was about to insist when Arthur shook his head vehemently, words slurring "Too out of your way, Emrys can."

"I'll take him home to my place, my house is closer than his. He can crash at my place 'til morning, no doubt this hangover will be nasty." Emrys sighed, a little disappointed in Arthur.

Morri pulled him aside as Arthur paid his tab. "Don't be put out, Emrys. I know you don't know him well, but he isn't usually like this. He found a box of his ex's things today. He's really messed up about it, so he drank more than normal. You can understand, right?"

Emrys sighed shakily, "Yeah, more than anyone. I'm not put out, Morri. I've got this."

Morri thanked him and clapped his shoulder before saying his goodbyes and leaving.

"Guess it's time to go home then," Emrys laughed weakly, putting Arthur's arm around him to brace himself as he walked him out.

...

They walked in the dark for a half hour, closing the distance towards the closest tube station. In this time, Arthur nearly toppled them from nodding off three times, stepped on Emrys's foot twice, and threw up into a nearby bin.

When they got close to the station, though, the sidewalk ended. Taking care to walk on the left side, against traffic like he was taught, he let Arthur decide the pace. They had walked a good distance that would have been simple, had Arthur been sober, but alas.

They made it, eventually, to the tube with no problem and got off a stop before Arthur's. So began the brief walk on the street to Emrys's home. Arthur, after having a bit to nod off on the metro, was much more groggy and was having trouble walking even when leaning on Emrys. Emrys was so focused on trying to make sure Arthur wasn't tripping over his own feet that he didn't hear the car barreling towards them.

Arthur noticed it, a shocked look on his face as he instinctively pushed Emrys into the ditch as the car swerved. It seemed like slow-motion: the car noticing them, swerving, being pushed in the ditch, then narrowly missing the brunt of the car as the front corner hit Arthur in the hip and pitched him fast and hit his head hard on the concrete, blood oozing from the wound.

As Emrys felt tears sting his eyes, watching the dazed look in Arthur's face as the car kept driving. Denial sank in as he crawled on hands and knees to reach Arthur, trying to surpress his sobs.

"Arthur!? Arthur? Can you speak?" Emrys asked, eyes searching the road for more cars.

None.

The area rarely had any cars, most of the houses had commuters, so the car which hit Arthur was likely lost or not from around there. Figured.

"Call an ambulance, I'm bleeding." Arthur muttered, blinking slowly. He was sober now, but he hit his head hard and he was losing blood fairly quickly.

"Arthur, I've got this. Don't worry. I've got this." Merlin muttered, glancing up to locate his house two doors down.

"What? Call an-" Arthur scolded before passing out.

Merlin looked back to his home, back at Arthur, then at the cell phone he brought out of his pocket. He made his decision; he called the ambulance and stayed by Arthur's side.


	9. Near Death Experience

Arthur woke up at the hospital, touching the back of his head and wincing. As sound faded in to the bustle outside his room, he looked over at the broken expression on Emrys's face as he sat on a too-small chair in the corner of the room.

"Emrys, what happened?"

"You're awake." Emrys jumped up, joining his side. "You were hit by a car... How are you feeling?"

"Like I _got hit by a car_ , quite frankly." Arthur hissed, touching the gauze on the back of his head again. The gauze covered the cut beneath it, superficial, but still sore.

"Nice to see you feeling good enough to make jokes," the doctor smiled, entering with a steady stride. "I'm Dr. Goode, I came to check up on you, see if we can get you checked out. According to your chart here, Arthur, you have a small, linear fracture in the parietal lobe at the back of your head. And because of the hard impact of when you hit the ground you also, needless to say, have a minor concussion. You were really lucky, it could have been much worse. So, tell me some of the things you are feeling now, physically."

"Let's see... Well, my thoughts are a little fuzzy, I have a headache... And my ears are ringing... I think. How long was I unconscious?" Arthur asked.

"A few hours," the doctor admitted, walking over to take a look at his wound again up close, peeling away the bandage. "You were semi-lucid enough to get a quick evaluation before we did x-rays but you were asleep from then until now. It is," she checked her watch. "Nearly 4am now, depending on how this evaluation goes you could end up staying here a few days."

"I have work-" Arthur started, wincing as he moved too quickly.

"Took care of it," Merlin tried to smile reassuringly, but his expression was tight. "Called Finn from your phone and let him know, he promised to talk to your work for you. He texted a while ago, instructing that he will let them know you need a few days off for recovery and not to worry about coming in for at least a week."

"Oh. Thank you, Emrys." Arthur was shocked, though he couldn't place why at the moment with his head as fogged as it was.

"Good friend you have there," she supplied. "Stayed calm enough to recount everything to the ambulance staff once they arrived. His thorough recount helped expedite the process of getting you the help you needed. That being said, Emrys, would you mind stepping out so we can begin the examination?"

"Of course," Emrys stood, legs wobbly, leaving the room. "I'll be back when you're done, Arthur."

Once he exited, the doctor began checking his eyes, reflexes, and so on as Arthur let his mind wander as he followed instructions. The doctor's voice brought him out as she had nearly completed the examination.

"Arthur, I need you to tell me your pain level. 1 from 10."

"An eight, I suppose."

"You seem to be doing alright, however I have a suspicion that you might be susceptible to an intracerebral hematoma. Typically, I would hold you here for observation. However, if you have someone trustworthy who can keep an eye on you I can allow you to go home. I think it is unlikely at this point but, to be sure, that is the only way I will release you before the end of next week. You would need them to sign a release that you will be in their care until the week is up." She watched with interest as he seemed to mull it over.

"I can see if my friends will check in on me after work on their way home-" Arthur began to offer, to which the doctor shot him a poisonous look.

"In that time, were you to suffer from a hematoma, you might be dead by the time they arrive. No. If you are being released it will be under _vigilant_ care. Perhaps you could call a sibling, or your parents, or even your girlfriend perhaps."

"No options there," Arthur groaned, he was getting irritated. He wanted to go home, he felt (relatively) fine. Plus, he missed his dog.

"What about your friend outside, Emrys? He mentioned to one of the technicians that picked you two up that he had medical field experience. While I can't guarantee the validity of that, he seemed to know what he was doing to prep you for the arrival of the ambulance. Surely, you would be in capable hands at the very least." The doctor knew she was overstepping her bounds in the recommendation but could tell that Arthur's distress of being in a hospital and (possibly paying the fees of staying so long) was stressful and so tried her best to help.

Arthur was silent for a long moment before he pinched the bridge of his nose in thought, "Let me think about it, if you would, please."

"Of course," Dr. Goode smiled kindly, "I will be back to check on your progress in an hour. Feel free to alert a nurse if you decide beforehand, I just need to give you a once-over before you would be released. I'll be back."

A few moments after the doctor left, Emrys returned with a nervous look on his face. His face was pale and his hands were shoved in his pockets, clearly he had no sleep in the few hours since they had arrived.

"Emrys, I want to thank you again for what you did."

"It was nothing-" Emrys waved his hands jn dismissal.

"Dr. Goode said you told the EMTs that you had medical experience? I thought you were a product tester?"

"I was in med school before... I just never completed a degree, per se." Emrys untucked his hands from his pockets to fiddle with the hem of his shirt.

"Why not? If you don't mind my asking." Arthur asked, curious.

Emrys looked at his feet, silent before he whispered so quiet Arthur could scarcely hear, "Too much death and suffering... I didn't like to see it over and over again. I thought I could help people, save people, but sometimes you're limited by technology of the times... Our technological capability can decide who lives or dies."

As air gets swept out of sails, Arthur felt the air sour in his lungs in a way that felt oppressive, "Oh."

Quiet moments passed between them before Emrys spoke up, albeit quietly, "What did she say?"

"I can be released into someone's care, but I basically have to be babysat 24/7." Arthur cut to the chase, assuming Emrys would feel uneasy and pressured if he danced around it.

"Does she think the chance of hematoma is high?"

"No," Arthur shrugged, "but it's for safety, I guess. Can't say I blame her. Most probably wouldn't release me, but she seems to trust your medical background. She said you prepared me well for transport, so thanks again, I guess."

"I can watch over you," Emrys blinked owlishly. "If you want me to, that is. I would just need to get some things from home and set some food out for the cats. They have a cat door so they can come and go as they need to."

"Are you sure?" Arthur asked. "I know it's really selfish of me to ask, after you saved my life-"

"You don't remember, do you?" Emrys asked, voice strained. "You pushed me out of the way, that's why you got hit."

"I did?" Arthur asked, shocked. "Oh."

"I'd be glad to watch over you. I'm... sort of qualified? Besides, I want to repay you."

"If you're sure..." Arthur offered, a subtle out if Emrys chose to take it.

"Absolutely. Before we leave, though, I am going to take a nap if you don't mind. The stress of all this kept me up."

"The doctor said she would check on me in an hour, go ahead. She can prepare the paperwork and all while you get some rest. Thank you, Emrys. Really."

"Gladly," Emrys smiled sleepily, yawning before curling up in a semi-fetal position in the bedside chair. He fell asleep almost instantly.

Arthur, on the other hand, watched him with interest. He pushed Emrys out of the way? He never thought he was capable of doing such a thing, yet he did. As he began nodding off, he hoped Wade didn't miss him too much.


	10. Most Prized Possessions

Once Emrys had woken up again, Arthur was in a wheelchair speaking with the doctor with a serious look on his face as he listened to her instructions.

"Arthur, you're up... Are you ready to go?" Emrys asked, rubbing his eyes to try to rouse himself awake. The bad dream he had awoken from was one he would not like to think too much about, so he forced himself onto his feet and stretched as the joints popped in his shoulders.

Arthur looked to Emrys and nodded, "Just some paperwork for me to sign and my release agreement for you to sign. And a lecture from the good doctor here on how to babysit me."

The doctor rolled her eyes, amused, before handing Arthur the paperwork for him to sign while she explained to Emrys.

"It's not babysitting, per se, however you will need to remain close by for the next few days to keep an eye on him. I will be explaining to you how you need to be conducting the unofficial check-ups every few hours."

"I'm going to go to the desk," Arthur told Emrys, "I'll meet you there in a while."

"Alright," Emrys was attentive to what she had to say, asking for clarification when needed.

After she had finished with her informational speel, she stood to shake his hand. "I appreciate you taking this on, while he shows no major red flags I feel that I can't be too careful with his case. The way he fell, based on how you described it to the medics, should have done much more damage. Having not much more than a bump on the head is nearly miraculous odds."

"You can't watch over them every minute, I understand. You feel responsible for them, it's admirable." Emrys nodded, with a knowing and far away smile.

"Call this number if there are any changes," she handed him a card listing the ward's direct line. "We'll rush an ambulance and pick him up."

"Thank you," Emrys whispered somberly, leaving the room to join Arthur.

...

Arthur was seated in the wheelchair, a few belongings in his lap with a stapled checklist to refer to when he would be checking up on Arthur. Emrys walked up to him and smiled fondly when he saw Arthur semi-arguing with a nurse about not wanting to use the wheelchair.

The woman tried to assure him that while she believed him when he said he could walk on his own, it was protocol to walk him out in a chair. Emrys touched the irritated woman's shoulder with a tap and with a reassuring smile affirmed aloud that Arthur would leave in the chair whether he liked it or not.

Arthur began to argue when Emrys said that, beginning to get up. Emrys, all smiles, pushed him gently down into the chair and began pushing it towards the nearest elevator.

"I do not need to be pushed, I feel fine!" Arthur snapped, to which Emrys stopped suddenly in the center of the hallway and moved to stand in front of Arthur with a steely glare.

"It is protocol for you to remain in this chair until we leave grounds, therefore you will sit in this chair and you can complain about how embarrassing it was later. For now, hush your yowling until we leave this floor, there are people sleeping."

Emrys did not look at Arthur's expression after he spoke, but radiated self-satisfied energy as Arthur grumled quietly in his wheelchair. He was baffled that Emrys had challenged his decision, albeit in an almost-intimate way that was so out of place for near-strangers that it felt odd for not having known each other long. Stranger still, he didn't mind being overruled. Coming from the man who made a point to control nearly every portion of his life after he moved from his parents' home- he was at a loss.

...

When they reached Arthur's car, Emrys made a point to thank staff as he left and sat in the driver's seat.

"How did my car get here, exactly?" Arthur asked.

After a moment of sitting in silence, Arthur looked over to see why Emrys was waiting around and saw him staring blankly at the steering column, blinking occasionally. Arthur tried to lighten the mood by asking what the hold-up was, repeating his question, and Emrys brought himself back to attention and put the key in the ignition.

"Right, uhm, Morri had keys to your house so he just got the keys this morning and brought it here for you." Emrys muttered, beginning to start the car as he laughed to himself.

"You look mad when you start laughing like that for no reason." Arthur stated, half amused and half confused.

"I forgot how to turn on the car. It came back to me but, I just haven't driven in such a long time. I didn't even think about it when I offered to drive you. I just thought it was funny."

"Well, as long as we don't crash, I'll take being chauffeured around." Arthur joked, but remained tense as Emrys drove him to his house to get some things before taking him back to his own home.

While Emrys was a careful driver, he seemed to be that was due to a tense nature rather than confidence. He kept glancing over at Arthur in concern as the blond was fiddling with his radio.

"So, how is your side?" Emrys asked, trying in vain to focus solely on the road.

"Fine, hell of a bruise, but nothing worse than the ones I got playing rugby." Arthur replied, "Did you get yourself checked out too? After all, I did basically throw you out of the way and then into a ditch."

"I'm okay," Emrys said with some hesitation, "nothing I can't handle."

"Right," Arthur said with frustration, looking outside as they kept driving to Emrys's house.

...

Arthur followed behind Emrys with interest, wanting to see the inside of his place since they had met. The first thing he noticed was how small the place was, a two-room flat (not including the bathroom) with the perimeter of the living area scaled in by a foot from the bookshelves filled to the brim on nearly every wall except for the poor excuse of a kitchen. The mobile desk with a laptop was rolled up beside the bed, the only piece of furniture besides a small dining table and chair against the kitchen wall.

Suddenly, a flood of cats come in through the cat door, filling the room with between 10 to 15 cats. The sight of them brings a smile out of Emrys, his troubled expression gone as he reaches down to pet them. Lovingly, they all rub against his hand and legs, ignoring Arthur entirely.

"Are they all strays?" Arthur asked, taking his attention from the cats as he took to looking at the books lining the walls' shelves.

"Yes, they're common around this area. They camp around here, sometimes even stay in the house with me. They are all very clean, they only come in to eat, sleep, and spend some time, then they take their leave." Emrys laid on the floor, all the cats cuddling around him like he were magnetic.

"They seem to _really_ like you. Wow, never seen cats act like that before." Arthur took a book from the shelf before yelling in surprise upon turning the first few pages. "Oh my god! A first edition Tennyson... and it's autographed?! How did you get this? Do you have any idea how much this is worth?! You sell this thing, you would be set for life."

"It was a gift," Emrys got a misty look in his eyes but it disappeared as soon as Arthur caught his eyes. "It's priceless to me. "

"Are you sure the signature is real? I mean, it has an inscription, but it's kinda hard to-"

Emrys took the book from his hand and returned it to the shelf, "Best if it be left alone, okay? I'll go get my things. If you could feed the cats, the food is on the kitchen counter; bowls are on the floor."

Arthur did so, unquestioned, but after Emrys was still packing his things when he returned to the living area he took the book next to it from the shelf. It was another first edition, although this one unsigned. Most of the books were old, but somehow Arthur could sense much more than two first editions. Some were even so old that they didn't have any writing on them at all on the outside. It unnerved him, how could someone living under such modest means have so much worth in these books and yet have them seated untouched on a shelf.

"I'm ready to go," Emrys nudged Arthur, bag packed as he peeked in on the cat's food bowls. "I'll just top the bowls off. I'll see you in the car."

Arthur wordlessly complied, waiting in the car. Emrys came out with a tense expression, sitting in the car and exhaling sharply.

"Sorry, I just... I'm not used to people coming over is all. My book collection are among my most prized possessions. I just get touchy about them."

"I get it," Arthur said, not really understanding but lying for the sake of civility. He would have time to ask more questions later.

The rest of the short drive to Arthur's was quiet, neither speaking. It's going to be a long few days.


	11. The Sleeping Babysitter

Arthur was nearly knocked over in the doorway when he stepped across the threshold of his front door. Wade jumped on him, causing him to bump into Emrys into the door jamb who steaded Arthur for long enough that the dog jumped down and returned to laying on the floor in the corner by the TV.

"I'll need to pull out the couch," Arthur thought aloud. "Need to let Wade out first and feed him."

"Sure, I'll get the couch. Take care of him... I got it. " Emrys said with hesitation. He took his time with the task. Emrys was so focused entirely, that when Arthur awkwardly cleared his throat for the third time, Emrys turned to see Arthur standing with a bundle of pillows and sheets in his arms with an uncomfortable look on his face.

"You didn't hear me, I guess. Got you some sheets and pillows." Arthur muttered, his feet shifting in place. His jaw was tensed, having trouble making eye contact. "Want to watch TV or something?"

"Yeah," Emrys nodded, distracted, "Sounds good. Can we finish another in the series?"

Arthur's eyes shined a little, excited, "Absolutely. I'll put it in. I'm glad you like it."

Arthur didn't need much more to talk about, he was enthralled with the movie. However, after an hour he started to feel the hip where he bruised start to hurt. He paused the film and stood to go take an ibuprofen, to which Emrys seemed to drag out of his funk and get a worried look on his face, grabbing Arthur's arm.

"What's wrong, are you getting a headache? Dizziness? Tinnitus? Should I check your pupil dilation?" Emrys fired off at an alarmed pace, looking Arthur up and down with concern.

"Uh, no." Arthur pulled his wrist free gently, a confused by Emrys's sudden change in tune. "Just the bruise on my hip. Just getting some ibuprofen, no big deal."

"I'll get it," Emrys stood, scrambling towards the kitchen.

"I keep it in the bathroom, I'll get it. I'm not incapacitated, Emrys." Arthur blew him off, searching through his untidy medicine cabinet for the pain killer.

"You just got hit by a car, Arthur. You could have died, I am only trying to help." Emrys hissed loudly, defensively, before sitting back on the couch. Arthur took the pill with a glass of water, and took a breath.

Arthur felt disgusted at the sudden sight of his anger, Emrys didn't seem the type before. Now, Arthur felt as though Emrys was overstepping his bounds. He nearly was going to tear into him until when he walked back in the living room, he was hugging Wade around the neck with his eyes closed, looking extremely troubled, rubbing his face into Wade's fur as he whispered inaudibly.

Arthur felt bad for wanting to yell at him in that moment, remembering that Emrys had no family left and- based on the lack of photos or anything truly personal besides the books in his home- no friends, or personal life to speak of. His life seemed to consist of his job, his routine, and many feral cats. It seemed sad, even lonely to Arthur...

It reflected his own life fairly well, actually. Only difference was he had friends to make it more bearable. Perhaps he should look at it that way and be a little more forgiving towards Emrys.

"I'm sorry," he said as he sat down, Emrys's eyes flying open upon realizing he was seen. He flushed in embarassment. "I know you're only trying to help, but I'm not a child. I'm self-sufficient, you know."

"I just... I worry. You were extremely lucky, but you could have died. Humans are very weak creatures, we break easily. Very easily... The doctor still isn't totally sure you are in the clear yet, that's why I'm here. Just let me take care of things, okay? It will give me some peace of mind." Emrys wrung his hands, his knuckles white from tension.

Arthur exhaled slowly before giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, "Sure. On one condition, I pay you for the time you spend here. I'm sure you're losing money not doing your work, and it will make me feel less babied. Alright?"

"In return I can cook, clean, drive you, or anything you need. Do not hesitate to ask. I just... I want to repay you, for everything... " Emrys seemed relieved somewhat. "Anyway, Morri and Finn gave me their numbers, I promised to keep them updated on how you're doing. They said you aren't very good at keeping tabs on yourself."

"That's probably true." Arthur admitted. "I need to go to the grocery tomorrow, out of almost everything but peanut butter."

"Why peanut butter?" Emrys asked, eyes glancing back once to the kitchen.

"Had it on sale, got two big tubs. I don't eat it often. Each one is larger than my head." Arthur felt his face redden in embarassment when Emrys started laughing uproariously.

"Didn't know they make them that big." Emrys howled, burying his face in his hands.

"You're so weird. You laugh at the dumbest things." Arthur smiled, glad to see Emrys in a better mood. "Wait a second, I do _not_ have a big head."

Emrys smiled, quiet, before making an excuse to stand and go make lunch for the two of them. He came back with a few sandwiches and a bag of crisps, setting the bag between them.

...

The rest of the movie was pleasant, Arthur taking care of the dishes after Emrys nodded off.

Arthur texted his friends a photo of Emrys sleeping with his head lolled back on the couch, crossed at the arms and ankles. Once he took the photo, he captioned it: babysitter sleeping on the job. The boys got a kick out of it, Finn following the message with a phone call.

Arthur quietly stepped out to pick it up, exhaling sharply upon hitting the cold, midday air.

"How is he?" Finn asked, "He was pretty shaken when he called me to tell me what happened."

"Aren't you supposed to ask how I am?" Arthur asked in mock offense.

"I know you're fine, you have the ironclad constitution of a mother-in-law." Finn retorted, "Besides, this whole thing came up kind of fast dinn'it? I mean, he's staying at your house now-"

"Only for a few days!" Arthur defended, suddenly embarassed.

"How long have you known him? Seriously? He could be a child murderer and you would never even know because you barely know him!"

"I just," Arthur hissed, impatient, before clearing his throat and lowering his voice. "I have this crazy feeling I know him, Finn. Maybe he was someone I knew from my summers at the lake with my parents or something, I just feel like I already know him. It's driving me mad to be quite frank with you. I've been wracking my brain but nothing _fits._ "

"All I'm saying is keep a close watch. He seemed nice from when I met him but he could be anyone. Look at those American serial killers, he could be one of those guys and you wouldn't even know." Finn defended, ending his tirade on the matter. "Regardless of my mistrust, I like him. There's something about him. He's... magnetic. I find myself very trusting of him, despite my nature warning me otherwise."

"Magnetic, eh? I doubt your girlfriend would appreciate the harem you sound as though you're planning." Arthur joked, glancing in the window to see Wade laying comfortably next to Emrys's feet.

"That's the thing. When I told her that, she agreed with me. Morri too. They said it was like I took the words right out of their mouth, Arthur."

Arthur still stared inside the window, distracted but verbally agreeing half-heartedly before joking, "Guess Emrys is the one starting the harem, huh?"

"I guess so..." Finn whispered, "Keep me updated. Any changes and I can be right over. The doctor trusted him to take care of you, just let him do it, I guess."

Arthur reluctantly agreed, hanging up the phone before stepping back inside and cleaning up the mess. Stacking the plates together woke Emrys up who sprang to his feet to take the dishes from Arthur to wash them in the sink.

Arthur sat back down, half asleep as he turned on a sit-com and watched absently. Emrys joining him within a few minutes, they watched tv until they both fell asleep.


	12. Narrated Flashback Time

Athur woke up a few hours later in his bed, unsure of how he had gotten there from the couch and unsure how he had changed clothes. A smell wafting through the air, as he tried flattening the hair that stood up on one side of his head, was clearly what woke him up from his sleep. Glancing out the window, he found the sun to be much too bright and squinted in pain as he made his way to the kitchen.

It took him walking to the other end of the hall to realize his door had been closed, he never closed his door in case Wade needed to wake him during the night. The solid wall of the scent of ham was what woke him up enough to remember he had been hit by a car, as well as the other related events occuring around said happening.

"Emrys, little early isn't it?" Arthur asked, leaning against the cabinet as Emrys cooked.

"Actually, it's well past nine, so you're a little late. How did you sleep?"

"Alright I guess..." After a moment of silence, Arthur looked at his feet and glared at them. "So, uh, how did I get in bed?"

"You walked in there, I suppose you don't remember?" Emrys asked with a short laugh, "Did you think I carried you in there or something? I could barely lift your dog, let alone you."

"I wasn't implying-" Arthur defended, feeling quite dumb. "Anyway the door was closed-"

"I closed it so I wouldn't disturb you. You were quite put out when Wade wasn't following you to bed so you kinda huffed off. Even called him a 'traitor', I believe. I came in to check on you periodically but Wade seemed fine sleeping with me on the couch. So eventually I just kept the door shut so I wouldn't risk waking you."

"Wade slept with _you_." Arthur grunted, thinly veiling his jealousy, "The dog who has slept at my feet every night since he was a pup, slept with _you_."

"I didn't know it would bother you this much, Arthur." Emrys admitted, "Sorry. Anyway... Food is ready. As you can probably guess by what I'm cooking, I went to the grocery while you were asleep."

"Right," Arthur muttered, taking the plate Emrys and setting it down on the counter. Grasping Emrys's shoulder, he sighs, "Sorry. Really. I don't understand why I'm acting so petulant, it's very unlike me."

Emrys had a fleeting expression of a grin before shrugging and face falling into neutrality, "No harm... Oh, by the way, that box you put by the road I think someone took the box."

"I see," Arthur muttered, "I suppose I should finish what I started. I still have a few boxes of clothes and things to go through from under my bed. Quite frankly, I have no idea what's in them. Might as well do something productive while I have the time off, since I usually spend weekends laying around and drinking... I'm sure you noticed I tidied up a bit."

"Yeah, it's getting there." Emrys agreed, "I'll be glad to help if you need it."

"I'll be okay, I think." Arthur muttered, talking between bites as Emrys nibbled absently on some buttered toast. "Just hang around and keep me company I guess, make sure I don't succumb to brain aneurysm while I relive the dumb things I did in my youth."

Emrys betrayed a smile as he whispered, "Not funny."

...

After morning routines were finished, they each changed clothes, Emrys laid on Arthur's bed with Wade lying like a large fluffy pillow under his knees.

Arthur pulled out the first box quickly, immediately cursing under his breath and shutting it after opening. "I'm not sure I'm ready for these boxes."

Emrys looked at him in sympathy, his eyes watching Arthur in earnest. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"It's, uh, old family photos... Before they, my parents..."

"Did they pass away?"

"No, that would have hurt less I think." Arthur sniffed hard, as though surpressing a wave of emotion. "I don't like talking about it."

"My books-" Emrys volunteered, "I am sure you wonder why I am so protective of them."

"Yeah, planned on asking you eventually."

"Tit for tat," Emrys offered, his eyes serious and stubborn. "I tell you about the books, then you talk to me. You owe me nothing," his voice flattened, "I just want to learn more about you. I find you... Interesting."

"You're right, I don't owe you anything. That being said, though, I am more curious about the books than I care about revealing the whole thing with my parents. Odd as it may seem, I accept what has happened I just can't forgive them for it..." Arthur moved the box to the side, scooting within a few feet of Emrys, petting Wade's snout. "So, the books. What's the deal?"

Emrys took a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking.

"The old books, all the first editions were my only real possessions for a very... _very_ long time." Emrys's eyes misted before he blinked them away, the wetness in his throat sticking.

 _...Flashback..._

"I was homeless most of my life... I ducked in and out of homes of acquaintances, friends, and shelters for a long time before I found roots. I had no family. The hardest part was finding ways to eat, thinking of clever ways to get it when I wasn't living on a couch. Sleep always came hard too, I had to protect my books.

"They were all I had, aside from a few pieces of clothing and bare essentials- I couldn't let them slip away... The _memories_ attached to them-" Emry's voice finally cracked, he wiped his eyes quickly and with shame.

"I'm sorry... anyway, I finally got a job where they didn't need to see me in person and learn to distrust me because of my background. _'He is a thief,'_ they would whisper about me. ' _He's so dirty-looking, does he even own a razor?'_ they sneered . Even though I could hear them, they didn't care.

"Oftentimes, they claimed anything that went missing or was lost was an attempt for me to resell them for petty cash. It hurt a lot. One of the few that saw the truth was the boss of the last job before this one.

"He took me aside once and asked if I had found a stable home, and when I admitted I hadn't he seemed very... beside himself. He wrote a phone number down and gave it to me with his hands shaking.

" 'Call them. They will give you a job, I can assure it. I just... Can't allow you to work here anymore, the gossip among the others is too much to retain our repuatation for much longer. I am so sorry, Emrys. I really am. I have written you a glowing referral, you can use it anywhere you like for as long as you need. You do not need this job, son. You need peace.'

"At that, I just thanked Mr. Garrett for giving me the job, the referral, and I just... left. I haven't seen him since. The person on the card he gave me accepted me immediately and asked only that I write as extensively as possible.

"The first few, he asked me to complete by hand and when he saw I was serious he gave me enough of an advance for a small laptop. I was so happy I wrote all of my next round of reviews in one night. Soon after, when things were steady I put myself up in a hotel, then a rental - my home now. It's been.. A process, for sure."

...

To this Arthur felt totally outshined, not only by Emrys's strength, but his humility. He felt a little cold-hearted when he responded:

"My story is much simpler than yours, it isn't a fair trade I think. However, regardless... my parents stopped loving me. I don't know why, maybe I didn't do good enough in their eyes, maybe they didn't like my taste in girls, maybe because I chose a 9 to 5 over a job with prestige.

"It started when I was in my teens. First, they would interrupt my stories to discuss their own problems, or fight on the odd occassion. Then, they stopped asking how school was going, how I was doing, who I was spending time with. Then, we stopped having family vacations to the lake house. Eventually, they sold the property the lakehouse stood on and they stopped coming to my games, my school events, my award ceremonies. They just stopped _existing_ as parents in my life.

"I can't place when they stopped caring, eventually I just noticed they weren't around and I didn't invite them to my graduation. Why let my words fall, yet again, on deaf ears? They bought me this place and with it, they did their parental 'due dilligence', and they cut the cord completely."

Without a word, Emrys reached over quickly, hugging Arthur around his shoulders, burying his face into his shoulder. Arthur wrapped his arms around Emrys's back readily, his angry demeanor dissolving into sadness that he had never let himself truly feel. He showed no reluctance in this.

He had never even told Eve.

That single thought was what lead Arthur's eyes to water, leading to tears as he squeezed Emrys tight. Emrys began breathing shakily, as if holding back his own tears as he whispered a quiet witticism to the effect of 'how they were both pathetic sad sacks'.

Wade whined in discomfort at the weight upon him and they released from the hug reluctantly. Emrys excused himself to the bathroom, Arthur grasping his hand on the way out.

"Thank you, Emrys... For sharing."

"You too... Arthur." Emrys eyed him, glancing at their hands before flushing in embarassment and darting off to the loo.

* * *

 _ **A.N.**_

 _ **It's a longer one, yay!**_


	13. On the Lake

When Emrys returned, Arthur had nearly completed another box. He was finding it quite easy to part with these old things without much thought, anything involving his parents, however, he tossed aside into the previous box. While he was sure there were things of import in there, he refused to give them more than passing thought for fear he would toss or donate something and regret it later.

"I was wondering," Arthur started, feigning nonchalance. "Have we met before the other day? I have this nagging feeling. Perhaps we met at the lake house I talked about earlier? It's the only thing that seems close to fit."

"I find that highly unlikely." Emrys muttered, "I've always been a, ah, a vagrant. Never stayed in one place too long."

"Shame." Arthur muttered, unconvinced. He was sure of it, even if Emrys couldn't remember. "I've been thinking, if I finish these boxes today, how about we go to the lake house? My parents still own it, I'm sure, been in the family for decades. Might as well have a place to drop off the old family photos. It's not like I have the space to leave it laying around here."

"You mentioned a lake house, but I'm not sure which lake you mean. There is more than one, you know." Emrys sniped, laying back on the bed to play with Wade's fluffy ears.

This aroused Arthur's suspicion again, _how could he be sure they didn't meet if he wasn't even sure of the name of the lake?_

"It's at the Lake of Shallot. Or, at least, that's what locals used to call it. They've changed the name at least a half dozen times now." Arthur shrugged, finishing the box before opening the last one (and upon seeing it filled primarily with old clothes) set it aside for donation without much thought.

"I don't think travel is a good idea right now. It would be too far from a hospital should something happen. " Emrys countered, ever the pragmatist.

"It'll be just for one day. I need to get this... _stuff_ out of here." Arthur assured, "Going with or without you."

"Of course you are, you stubborn ass." Emrys scoffed. "Well it'd better be today then. Get it out of the way."

"Fine," Arthur conceded. "But I'm bringing Wade, he's never been and he would love the water."

Emrys rolled his eyes, flopping Wade's ears back and forth in silent retaliation. "Right."

...

The drive had been silent between them except for a pit stop at a petrol station halfway along the route. During this stop, Arthur asked if Emrys needed anything, he shook his head, and Arthur came back with a bag full of items and set it in back with Wade. He didn't ask, Arthur didn't offer information, so the drive went quiet again. The dodgy radio going in and out before settling on static.

They arrived close to noon, Arthur pulling a hidden key from under a hole in the deck's foundation. Wade was excited as all get out, wagging so hard Emrys was sure his tail would sprain. The small cabin was coated in dust, but power and water still connected.

The dog bounded through the open doors of the cabin with glee, barking his excitement. Arthur watched him in fondness, letting the dog bound through the house. Coughing at the stirred dust and musty air, he opened a few windows to make it more tolerable. Emrys, however, was uncomfortable thanks to the drive itself.

"We're here, let's drop it off and get on shall we?" Emrys tutted, hacking as he harumphed onto a dusty couch, old particles causing him to sneeze. "I wouldn't be surprised if the water ran brown out of the tap. This place has really been let go."

Arthur grit his teeth, attaching a leash to Wade's harness, "We drove all the way over, I plan on enjoying myself just a _little_ bit. This place holds the happiest memories of my entire life, so excuse me if I'm a tad attached." He calmed down and cleared his throat, "I'm going for a walk around the lake, sulk if you want."

"And if you were to have a brain aneurysm while you're out there?"

"Then I die alone, and Wade will eat me once he gets hungry." Arthur rolled his eyes so hard he actually gave himself the start of a headache.

Emrys looked furious but stood and followed them, allowing Arthur to lock the door behind them. He lightened up a little as they walked along the forest path, reaching out occasionally to touch the bark of the trees. He even watched the sky through the canopy of the trees.

"Seem to be in a better mood, hm?" Arthur mentioned offhandedly.

"The woods relax me, I miss them. Don't see them much where I live, if I go outside at all..."

Arthur related, but felt again like there was more to what he was saying. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more that strange thought came into his head. The thought that Emrys was not telling the whole truth.

Wade, upon seeing a squirrel in the flesh, bolted and wrenched himself loose from Arthur's grasp, galloping ahead. Arthur rushed after them, and Emrys after him. After a minute or so, Arthur was worse for wear.

"Arthur! Stop! I'll get him! Your heart rate-! Lie down!"

Arthur was near collapse, severely out of shape on top of recently injured, his head pounding. He nodded in defeat while Emrys continued to run at a surprisingly quick pace after the dog. He did as Emrys said, lied down, desperately trying to regain his breath.

...

With his eyes closed, he could see a sight of Emrys standing at the shore of the lake, weeping. His voice silently yelling a name, reaching out to the sky, then collapsing and pounding his fists into the ground.

He had such a strong need to console Emrys, to tell him everything would be okay- but he woke up before he could.

...

He must have fallen asleep for a moment, waking up to a dog tongue on his face and Emrys fussing over him checking his vitals.

"Don't cry, Emrys..." Arthur whispered, half out of it.

"Arthur, cut the nonsense. Did you fall asleep or pass out? This is important."

He groaned, feeling as though he hadn't slept at all, "Sleep, pretty sure. Had a dream. The lake, you were by the lake."

Emrys slowly sat Arthur up, clearly irritated, "We need to go back to the cabin and go back to your place. This place is clearly effecting you negatively."

"I want to go on the lake, before I go. Can't leave before I do." Arthur was insistent, "Wade can stay in the house. We have a row boat, in the- in the boat house."

"A row boat?"

"They sold the yacht when we were still coming here. Said it was more trouble than it was worth. The row boat is mine. Please, Emrys."

Emrys, seemingly losing all his resolve at Arthur saying his name so pleadingly, he nodded quietly. He helped Arthur to his feet and took the leash himself as they walked back together.

...

And so, they pulled the boat from its storage rack and lowered it into the water. Wade, safely in the house, was tired from his run and took a nap on the living room couch.

"I'll go in first, since I am to assume you have little experience with boats." Arthur smirked, lowering himself carefully into the boat.

"Right," Emrys muttered, following in gingerly. He took the oars himself and began to row them out, Arthur offering to take it himself but Emrys refusing to do so.

Emrys tried stopping 3 meters or so from shore, but rowed out further at Arthur's insistance. Emrys began sighing more frequently, as though he was caught between exasperation and breathless fear.

"You said we had never met before, but I think that's a lie. Isn't it? The dream I had, I'm sure it happened. I know it's true, I just can't prove it."

"What did I say?" Emrys asked, his expresion dark as he pulled the oars in, skeptical. They floated as he shifted his wait on the bench. "In this dream, what did I say, how did I look? How can you know if it ever happened?"

"I can't remember details. But you were upset, you were at shore, I could see you but I was sort of far away. I couldn't hear you."

"It was a dream, nothing more." Emrys muttered, going to grab the oars.

"Emrys. Why do I keep getting the sense that you're lying to me?" Arthur asked, grabbing one of his hands reaching for an oar. "If we met before, why won't you tell me?"

Emrys had a conflicted expression, his eyes flitting around until they found Arthur's hand on his, pulling the hand from his grasp he crossed his arms, "You'll think I'm crazy."

"Little too late for that." Arthur joked.

"Do you believe in past lives? You know, reincarnation?"

"Never thought about it, really." Arthur admitted. "That's what it is, then? We met in a _past life_?"

"Uh..." Emrys could feel his face pale before the words even left his mouth, "more than one, actually. Several."

" _Several_." Arthur was surprised, so the question came out more like a statement. "It would explain the deja vu, I guess."

"There's a theory, you know, that through reincarnation you will always gravitate towards the same people over and over, even if they look or sound different." Emrys was blushing now, quite sure that Arthur found him worthy of a padded room.

Arthur, shocked and confused, took Emrys's face and held them between his hands, gripping the ends of his hair, looking at him intently. Emrys met his eyes and tried to squirm from the grasp, Arthur relented and let go.

"Yeah, I believe that. I _know_ that face. I can feel it. Mhmm. Definitely." Arthur muttered confidently.

"C-Can I row back to shore now?"

"Sure, sorry." Arthur laughed, looking at the sky as it was beginning to darken. "Looks like a storm is coming."

"Of course there is." Emrys grunted, trying to row faster.

This effort was futile however, as rain came down in sheets right before reaching shore. They put the boat away and used the through door to get to the side of the cabin with the bathroom.

"You can strip first. I'm sure some of the old clothes in that box I brought would fit you. It's from high school but you're small enough."

"Gee thanks." Emrys rolled his eyes, playful but a tad miffed at the situation.

"Hang the clothes in there, I'll bring you something unless you plan on walking around this many-windowed, non-curtained cabin naked."

"On second thought-"

"Thought so," Arthur laughed. "Be right back."

Emrys stepped in and locked the door, hanging his dripping clothes on the shower curtain rod, his underwear begrudgingly following close behind after a thorough wringing-out did no good.

Arthur knocked on the door, handing the clothes through the crack Emrys opened in the door. After changing, Arthur was already in a pair of basketball shorts, wringing his clothes over the kitchen sink.

"Did you change in here?" Emrys asked, chuckling.

"Yeah, the counters hide my indecency from the neighbors." Arthur joked, dropping the clothes in the sink to lean against the counter nearby Emrys. "I was right. They fit you just fine."

Emrys, remembering he was not wearing his own clothes, flushed, "This is a nice shirt. What does the acronym mean?"

"Oh, something nerdy I'm sure, can't quite remember." Arthur got a odd smile on his face, "It's my old model U.N. shirt. I'm quite fond of it, but it reminds me of my parents." He stepped forward to feel the fabric between his fingers, not even noticing the stark redness of Emrys's face and ears. "I wouldn't even let my ex wear that shirt. Funny how things turn out."

Wade took this moment to wake up, stretching and yawning noisily before pawing at the two of them.

"Think he wants us to sit with him." Emrys smiled, scratching his cheek in an embarassed tic.

"Sure thing, Prince Wade." Arthur laughed, flopping on the couch next to Emrys.

The dog laid across both their laps, relaxed.

"About the past lives thing..."

"Yeah?" Emrys asked, pulled away from his ardent scratching of Wade's stomach.

"How many do _you_ remember? I can't remember much of anything."

"With some version of you in them?" Emrys seemed to drift for a moment, thinking. "Firsthand memories, including now, I'd say... Four? There's four specific time periods with time in between. Some say reincarnation is immediate, other say it takes a while, others say you're not even guaranteed to be human if you _do_ come back. So... Yeah. Plus, it's not guaranteed we meet every lifetime-"

"Would you tell me what you remember?" Arthur asked, remembering his childhood dreams of being someone who transcended space and time, to be a legend. Naïve or not, it could be his way.

"Are you sure that you want to know? It's not all pleasant. In fact, most of it is quite sad. It's why I avoided you at first, all these memories have me in them you know, one starts to wonder if I am the catalyst."

"Tell me. Maybe then I can understand."

"...Okay." Emrys relented, "It started with Arthur, the _King_ Arthur of the round table. That was you."

The memory of the sword in the park came to mind, and any doubt flew from his mind as he listened to the story. King Arthur was the beginning with his death in battle. Then the story of Artie, the man who eventually succumbed to a case of tuberculosis. Lastly, the shortest stort of all: Art the painter who hung himself on this 30th birthday.

Every story, Arthur noticed, stopped there one way or another- they all died before or at 30. The thought made him really wish he'd bought alcohol when they were at the station.

He was nearing 30 himself, a scary thought.

* * *

-  
 ** _A.N._**  
 ** _Double chapter (almost a double-and-a-half) because honestly it would be dumb to split this up. Plus, plot progression! Woohoo! Finally, right?_**

 ** _Also, if you couldn't tell, this chap was where the cover pic came into the story lol_**


	14. Morte D' Arthur

**_A.N._** **_:_** ** _Read First!_**  
 _ **This chapter is the detailed stories Emrys told Arthur. So it's kind of an inline prequel to Arthur's reactions of the story...**_

 _ **I didn't want to break pace of previous chapter, and wanted a good cliffhanger, so here are the stories seperately. The next chapter will follow up after On the Lake.**_

 _ **This chapter is necessary to plot! Please**_ _**read it, otherwise conversations later will not make sense.**_ _**The King Arthur stuff is heavily cliffnoted since I assume you have seen the show, the rest is in detail.**_

 _ **A particular part, of the "story" takes place in America at the Waverly Hills Sanitarium- while I did lots of research will have historical "liberties" on parts I may not be able to research (such as when their PA system was installed, life for "mobile" patients).**_  
 _ **Lot of dialogue this chap, so be prepared!**_  
 _ **Anyhow~ Enjoy the chap!**_  
 _ **Love, DbI**_

* * *

"King Arthur was a wonderful leader, he won the love of his people and was the first king to stop the persecution of druids. He was married to a wonderful woman who was headstrong and kind... just like him-" Emrys laughed softly at that, fondly.

"Druids? Like magic?" Arthur asked.

"Yeah, that's what the legend says," Emrys sighed. "To be quite honest, my memory of King Arthur consists of a lot of name-calling and him being a royal prat."

"Are you sure he was the annoying one?" Arthur grinned, watching Emrys with amusement.

"Seeing as he constantly had to be saved from himself, yes." Emrys whispered sagely. "He still died though... when it really mattered, I couldn't save him."

"But it wasn't you," Arthur reassured, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder. "It's not your fault."

"I wonder..." Emrys whispered, voice soft, his fingers beginning to twitch in Wade's fur. "The strongest memory of that time is his death. He begged me to stay with him as he died," his lip quivered. "He begged me to hold him... It's still very fresh in my mind, like it happened yesterday. Even my senses remember it perfectly."

"Don't you remember happy things?" Arthur asked, confused how Emrys could feel it so vividly.

"I don't remember vividly. It was a long time ago, after all. But, I do remember sensations I relate to him... if that makes sense. You know, like exasperation, amusement, warmth, admiration, things like that. I thought the sun would rise and set with him, I know that for sure."

"We should be prepared to stay the night," Arthur interrupted suddenly. "This won't be letting up anytime soon. I'll start dinner."

Emrys smiled, rolling his eyes as he watched Arthur unwrap from his behemoth of a dog. Arthur cooed at his dog as he unraveled himself, promising to come back soon. This sight greatly unseen by Arthur's friends, this moment with his walls down, was enough to put a warmth in Emrys's chest.

"You planned on staying the night, didn't you? You knew it would rain." Emrys crossed his arms in mock defiance, leaning his head back on the couch as he watched Arthur take a frozen pizza and a few waters from the fridge, presetting the oven. "How sly of you."

"Well, it opened you up to me, didn't it?" Arthur smiled, his expression soft. "I hoped for the rain, but it wasn't a plan exactly. I noticed on my phone while I went to pay for petrol it would rain so I prepared. We are in Britain, we are known for heaps of rain, after all."

"I'm sure I would have confessed these memories eventually," Emrys admitted. "With or without your insistence."

Arthur put the pizza in the oven, returning to his place on the couch beside Emrys who was watching the rain outside the window.

Suddenly, Arthur had the urge to tousle his hair, to wrap his arms around the boy's shoulders, to snuggle his face in his neck. The odd complusion caused him to choke on a mouthful of air.

As he coughed it out, he handed Emrys his water who spun around to visually check on him. He, for a moment, saw a visceral fear in Emrys's eyes. He breathed in, then out, regaining his breath before scooting next to Emrys thigh-to-thigh.

"Tell me more. What about the next one you remember?" Arthur asked, wanting to move on but morbidly curious to know more.

Emrys breathed sharply, "Are you sure? This one is, uhm, _different_... _we_ were different. It might be better if you didn't know."

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked, "Different how?"

"I don't know how to put it delicately," Emrys blushed, touching his palm to his face and looking away.

"Just spit it out." Arthur grumbled, irritated by the cloak-and-dagger routine by which this entire conversation had seemed to follow. Why constantly question when Arthur was being open-minded enough to listen to all of this anyway?

"We, well he and I, were... in love. We were, uh, together, in a way." Emrys buried his face in the dog's fur, unable to meet Arthur's gaze.

"Oh." Arthur blushed himself.

Emrys regained his composure and raised his head, looking out the window instead of meeting Arthur's eyes. Frankly, some of the stories were hard enough to think about, let alone recount them to the reincarnated subject of such memories.

"Artie was a TB patient at a hospital in America, one of the finest at the time, in fact. I remember nearly everything of him, since it was much more recent... While I don't have any memories of looking at calendars, I'm sure it was in the late 1910s.

"Our meeting was an accident, I had been working as a doctor in the hospital. With our limited knowledge we were trying to save people, but it was a futile task back then, you know. The only cure practices were rest, fresh air, sunlight, and balanced diets back then, seems obtuse to us with what we know now but doctors were doing the best they could with the knowledge they had. Survival rate was roughly 3% and it was difficult.

"Knowing the patients were torn from their homes, their families, to be quarantined away in this sanitorium on a hill with a quite-certain death sentence... Quarantine was an adamant part of this, in hopes the disease would not spread. Sometimes, children would be torn from their mother's arms and locked in the back of the horse-drawn carriages, which served as ambulances in those days.

"Children had their own ward with those children who had sick parents too poor or isolated from family to get care any other way... I'm sorry, I'm getting off-topic."

Emrys took a deep breath, covering his eyes as his head lolled as though he were staring at the ceiling. Arthur listened intently, silently. They interrupted for a while, to eat the cooked pizza, then continued where they left off.

"Well... Artie arrived a somber but calm young man, he was afraid but felt he had lived well enough in his 28 years. He found out his diagnosis quickly, volunteering to come to Waverly Hills with the small hope he could be cured. He contracted the disease from staying in a room previously held by an infected person, the innkeeper too dull or uncaring to do anything about the diseased bed and sheets. In fact, the room letter told him, herself, that the room was held by a consumptive merely days before. Next day, he took his precautions and made his way to the sanitarium.

"Artie was in an individual room, since he was still in early stages and still had mobility. The rooms were small, but the coughing fits the patients suffered were enough to cause significant levels of pain. Even early on, when he transferred in, his complexion was healthy and though he had fits that caused his throat to be sore and hoarse he was in good spirits. He liked helping to care for the children early on.

"He never had siblings for long, they died in adolescence for various reasons, so he liked to play with them and treated them like family- learned their names, made them small gifts out of things around. It tooks a few months for me to even run into him the first time. It was a big hospital, after all. I was a British transplant, the only one in the hospital except Artie, and I had gone to check on a certain child per request of their parent who wrote a letter to me asking for updates.

"He was consoling the child I was looking for, oddly enough. The boy, 8 or so, was the youngest member of his family, and the only one to contract TB... for the health of his family he had to be quarantined away from them. He adjusted well enough, but he had trouble finding comfort in the nurses when he was in pain. Artie was wiping blood from the boy's hand that he had coughed up, which always caused him to cry. It was frightening, I imagine, for a child so young to try to grasp they would likely never see their family again and eventually just die.

"Anyway, Artie was smiling at him, talking in conspiratory whispers as though he were a child himself hiding a secret." Emrys couldn't supress a smile as he talked about it. "I interrupted, letting the boy know his parents dearly wished to recieve a letter from him. Invigorated by the conversation, he readily agreed and walked off to his room. I introduced myself as a doctor of the facility, and Artie just smiled and made a joke about how it made sense now that I wore a white coat in such a place."

Arthur, enraptured in the story, gave a nod of encouragement and Emrys went on.

"He seemed to place me as familiar immediately, patting my shoulder in greeting. He insisted that, as a fellow Brit, I be in charge of his care. I was of course, glad to do so. I knew it was him immediately, the man I knew as King Arthur, reborn as another. He, somehow, looked exactly the same... perhaps a little more tanned from the years spent in American sunshine, and more at peace with himself but I suppose some find calm in the face of death.

"His coughing was the most consistent, though not bad at first. The coughing did leave him with throat and chest pain, at times he stated it felt hard to breathe. He did so well at the beginning, he even helped us roll the beds out to the balcony walkways so that bedridden patients got healthy doses of sunlight and fresh air.

"The spring was kind, with bouts of rain but not humid, patients found it pleasant for the most part. Artie spent his free time in the lounge, reading, or spent time with the sick children who were seperated from the well children.

"You know... You can live for years with tuberculosis. It can take up to three years to take someone's life completely. When it begins to get bad, you lose weight, you lose the desire to eat, you can barely move from severe fatigue, you sweat bullets although you feel as though you're freezing...

"The memories of living corpses, skin almost transluctent and stretched like hide on a drum. Muscle mass diminishes, even your hands lose their supple appearance. It was only in the last year that Artie was that bad off. The fatigue had their comings and goings, as did the fevers, but once he began to lose weight it was a matter of time until he wasted away.

"I'm getting ahead of myself," Emrys cleared this throat, taking a sip of his drink that had been left mostly forgotten in front of him. The dog snored quietly from his spot on the floor nearby. Arthur watched Emrys with his total attention, head leaned sideways on his hand.

"Artie approached me one day, out the blue, and asked me to go into town and buy a few records. He wanted to host a party, of all things. I did as he asked, came back with a few. He gathered everyone who was mobile to the lounge and played records over the PA system for those who were bedridden. One of the nurses recognized one of the records and begged me to play it, I told her to go ahead. I was surprised to find it a waltz. She wasn't surprised of course, she asked me to dance. Being a doctor and all, I was better with my hands than my feet," Emrys let a small smile slip again.

Arthur was finding these smiles so be so warm, and yet they set him on edge though he wasn't sure why.

"Artie, he cut in. I was backing up from her, offering him her hand, when he clarified he wanted to dance with me, not her. She was shocked, but went off to dance with another doctor. I was shocked too, as you can imagine, the times being what they were... But I think it was the environment, the cloud of death that hung over everyone made those little things matter so much less. So, we danced... He had the grace of a king, I had seen him dance so many times with Gwen I never thought how it felt in her shoes.

"That moment could have been when I fell for him... But there were so many moments, so many times my heart skipped a beat throughout the time spent with him, it could have been any of them or all of them. The song ended, he bowed to me and in that moment I saw the king, the man I served for years, not the boy dying of TB. I bowed back awkwardly, then shuffled off to make myself scarce.

"I saw him in passing for a month or so, talking only when we happened to bump into each other. We didn't talk much, frankly. I think the dance had scared us both off, it felt weird, intimate, even. He stopped me one day when I was loitering in the stairwell, and he asked me questions, arbitrary things, but after a while was satisfied and went off on his own.

"It was a week or so after that, I was taking lunch break in the stairwell, and while on an outing to the courtyard with a few other patients, picked me a bouquet of tiny wildflowers. They were varied in size and shape, but it was obvious he tried to arrange them somehow before giving them to me. He gave them to me gently, wrapping my hand around them, and asked me if I liked them... I just... collapsed into tears.

"The memories of the man who died on the battlefield were overwhelming, I had clenched the flowers to my chest. Artie knelt down, met my eyes, and asked me if I thought of someone other than him as I cried. Obviously, it felt like a trick question, so my brain told me it ws high time to cry harder. When I calmed down, I told him I liked the flowers. He smiled and assured me there would be "more in my future", but of course all that ended when he got sicker. He lived over 2 years at the hospital before he did... Things obviously progressed from the flowers but, it is uncomfortable enough recounting all this."

"Fair enough," Arthur murmured, letting the story sink in. The part of him that wanted to doubt the story saw too much of himself in these men, had he picked wild flowers to Eve once only for her to turn them down? Arthur admitted, Emrys did seem like the type to appreciate such gestures.

...

"You said there were three, doesn't that mean there's one more?" Arthur asked after a minute or two of silence.

"Ah, him. Honestly, there's not much to say, really." Emrys sighed, any sign of hapiness from the events of the previous story gone from his expression. "Art, he was a painter, a wonderful one at that. In the year 1940, on his 30th birthday, he recieved a letter that he was to be inlisted in just a few days to fight in what we would come to know as World War II, he... well, he hung himself from the rafters of his art studio.

"I found out in the newspaper about his death, had his college picture and everything... They auctioned off his things, his paintings, even his diary. His paintings, a lot were landscapes, old England you know. No cities, just rolling hills and quiet meadows. The other half... They were portraits, realistic portraits that looked so vivid, so much like me. I bought the diary for a few dozen pounds and ran.

"His diary was filled with anguish, just constantly repeating this desire to 'fill the empty part of himself'. I don't have clear memories of the words, but he mentioned the paintings that looked like me were of his 'soulmate from a previous self'. I'm sure most of the paintings were destroyed, they weren't of much meaning to others like it was for him... Anyway, he was the last, until I met you. You're the fourth."

"I was quiet and listened to your stories. The sun has set since you started. I have a lot of questions, but one seems to bother me the most."

"Go ahead," Emrys insisted.

"Why do you refer to your past life in the first person?"

"Because it was all one life, as long as I remember it." Emrys smiled, the mirth not reaching his eyes, "You never remember, not fully, Art was the only one who did... and look what happened."

"Were you in love with Art too?"

Emrys sputtered, his entire face turning red, "Yes, I didn't know him like I did Artie, or King of the Round Table, but they were the _same_ person. Different circumstances, but they had the same mind, same heart, they even looked the same."

"What about me?" Arthur asked, eyes glassing over from fatigue. "What am I to you?"

"You are a debt I must repay," Emrys said with a thickened voice, weighed with emotion. "I couldn't save you, any of those times... I would rather end things, then, if I am to be doomed to watch you die again and again and again. I can't _do_ it anymore! I _can't_ , Arthur!"

"Then don't." Arthur got a strange look on his face, a strong gaze that Emrys found to be very unsettling. "Don't let me out of your sight."

* * *

 _ **A.N.**_

 _ **My GOD. A triple chapter. Love me, my dear readers/kouhais bc there was an insane level of research in here. lol**_


	15. Under the Water

_Don't let me out of your sight_ , Arthur had said, a strange ferocity in his countenance. In these lives, he never lived beyond thirty. While he still had a few years until then, the thought was frightening. However, as Emrys had told these stories, Arthur felt an unshakeable trust that was reflected in this statement but Emrys remained quiet.

"What do you mean by that?" Emrys asked, clearing his throat.

"Don't let me die." Arthur was sure enough in what he said, even though it didn't _quite_ make sense. How could he be saved from death?

"I can't fight fate, Arthur!" Emrys yelled defensively, voice strained, waking the dog from his deep sleep. "I can't promise that!"

"Then promise me this, Emrys. Promise me that I won't die alone."

Emrys gaped at Arthur, closing his mouth as the gears visibly turned behind his eyes, not meeting Arthur's gaze, "If you want me to remain by your side, I will never leave it."

"Good," Arthur whispered softly, suddenly embarrassed. He had been so wrapped up in this emotion, this feeling he couldn't place, that his mind had simply been elsewhere. "I guess I should get on to bed, I would like another morning stroll before we leave. Pick any room you like, I'll see you in the morning."

Arthur left to his room, Emrys left alone on the couch. Wade, half-awake, slovenly eased himself onto the couch beside Emrys and sighed meaningfully as he gazed up at him. _Well, that was eventful_ , his big brown eyes seemed to tease. Emrys smiled, tousling the dog's fur, "You said it."

...

Alone, Arthur found himself drawn back to the living room. His body seemed to ache to be apart from Emrys. _Perhaps_ , Arthur _mused, the story was a way to lure me in. This is all quite ridiculous, isn't it? And yet, I believe him. With all my soul I know he tells no falsehoods. Flowers. The flowers were the kicker._

Arthur would, indeed, pick a personal gift like that, especially for one so humble as Emrys.

 _I can imagine it now,_ Arthur thought, crawling into the bedsheets. _I would pick a lot of yellow, if they were there, and white, maybe one or two, but red would be it's centerpiece. A stark, wonderful red that he couldn't help but think of me, a red of fervour and passion of- oh, dear lord the lads were right I'm in much deeper than I thought._

Arthur got out his phone and texted Morri, expecting him to still be up. When he was sure Morri was awake, he asked, simply, if he believed in past lives. While Arthur would never say so outright, he appreciated Morri's imput most out of his two best friends, because while the man was practical, he was open-minded and fair.

Morri (recieved 10:12pm) : _Of course I want believe, but what good would it do me? Those who live in the past cannot see their future. Go to bed, Arthur. Whatever you and Emrys talked about clearly has you rattled. Sleep on it. Talk tomorrow, I need some sleep._

With a sigh, he admitted the advice was pretty good and there was no point to dwell on it for the night.

...

Arthur woke at half past 9, dazed at the unfamiliar surroundings. Admittedly, he hadn't slept in this room since he was a teenager, but he found it much less inviting than it used to be. The walls which used to have the token landscape paintings on them, had been taken down, leaving darkened wallpaper around where they used to hang. The bookshelf that used to house his books for summer reading were gone too, save for a ragged copy of Tom Sawyer.

Remembering Emrys and Wade, he crawled out of bed and lumbered out of the room sleepily. Arthur was halfway to the kitchen, calling out to Emrys who was no longer on the couch. He peeked in each open door, calling to him, nowhere to be found.

Wade, in all the commotion, had been pawing at the door to be let out. Arthur sighed in disappointment as he remembered the boy could simply be taking a stroll as they had done yesterday. He rolled his shoulders, trying to get a phantom pain out of them before hitching the dog to a lead and taking him outside. He was surprised to find Emrys's clothes lying on the bank with a towel, apparently diving nude out in the lake.

Emrys popped up for air, Arthur calling out to him with a laugh, "Emrys! What are you doing out there? Looking for lost marbles? It must be freezing!"

Emrys's hair plastered to his forehead, dripping water down his cheeks, he gasped in surprise but smiled regardless.

"Ah! You're awake!" Emrys yelled, "I just, uh, wanted to go for a swim!"

"Naked, underwater, in full view of any passing neighbors?" Arthur laughed, sitting with Wade at the shore.

"To be fair, there haven't been any neighbors since I've been out here!" Emrys called, swiping his hair back. "I'll be done soon, go walk Wade he waited all night!"

Arthur conceded and left Emrys to his swimming.

...

Upon return, Arthur found Emrys staring listlessly at the sky, a towel covering his indecency. Though very lithe, it was clear that Emrys had muscles toned under his skin, unlike Arthur who had fallen into the habit of sedentary life.

It wasn't so much his body though, that drew Arthur's attention, but the lack of motivation in his expression as a sour expression sat in his body language. He seemed extremely disgusted, for some reason.

"What you were looking for... I assume it's not there?"

"Not anymore..." Emrys sighed, slapping his hands to his face in irritation "and, it makes me wonder what _that_ even means."

"What were you looking for?"

"I think a better question would be to ask you, what do _you_ think I'm looking for? Do you have any idea where we are?"

Emrys watched him with such an annoyed expression, he felt embarassed and cleared his throat.

"Lake Shallot, is that supposed to be a trick question?" Arthur asked.

"That tower, on that island in the lake, haven't you ever wondered what that was? Jeez, it's like you aren't even him at all! Your face, your voice, your mannerisms, even the way you're looking at me right now as though I've grown another head- yes, _that_ look! They're always the same but without the memories... It's just, different. I guess your destiny is over... and mine with it. No sword, no kingdom, just whatever _this_ is."

Emrys seemed to pout, getting up to put on his clothes. He regretted ever seeing Arthur, to feel all of this again.

Arthur felt the weight of what Emrys said hit like a ton of bricks, firing up his anger, "Well of course I'm not _him._ Whichever _him_ you mean, we all had different lives, experiences, upbringings, why would you expect anything else?!"

" _My_ Arthur, the one who died on that island, was the once-and-future-king but I suppose he dies again with you. No sword, no prophecy! No prophecy, no Merlin!"

"Merlin?"

"You don't even remember that, you damn dollophead?!" Emrys yelled, "Me, you stupid prat, _me_! Spending this wretched eternal youth to fulfill this destiny, chasing the ghost of a great man- who I _loved_ \- only to see him die over and _over_ and _OVER_ again! Have you no idea how much I have _suffered_ over you?! I could never end this misery myself, oh no, death can _never_ befall a wizard of destiny!-"

"Oh my god..." Arthur muttered to himself, eyes blown wide.

"My magic died with the times but this stupid body refused to! I am doomed to watch you die and never save you! Perhaps, the cycle is finally broken, _perHAPS_ I can finally die in _peace_!" Emrys screamed, wiping the tears streaming down his face.

Arthur wanted to comfort Emrys, this Merlin boy, but found himself at a loss, "There was a sword at the park, I remember where it-"

"That tourist trap?" Emrys scoffed, "You would be better off pulling a leech from a corpse. I just... I want to sleep."

"When you mentioned magic, were you serious?"

"Why?" Emrys scoffed, "Care to see a scarf trick?"

"If it bothers you so much that I don't have these memories, why don't you give them to me? They were mine, surely I can get them back."

"It's possible," Emrys stopped his pacing and crossed his arms, suddenly rigid. "But Artie knew everything, and when he- when he came back as Art, look how he ended up. I just, think it would be best if I left. This will all seem like a bad dream."

"I want to remember." Arthur insisted. "If it might fill the holes, why not try a few corks?"

"If you think the car accident hurt your head, this will be worse. I can't guarantee your safety, either. This could seriously injure you, it could even kill you from the strain." Emrys insisted, "My magic is unstable now, and very dim, I can't heal you if it were to go wrong."

"Let me think about it." Arthur whispered, "We have to get back."

...

Emrys agreed, they went in, packed up their things, and left in the car before Arthur spoke again, "Why Emrys? It's an unusual name."

"But it turns less heads than Merlin, and it is considered my true name, my magical name. Besides..." Emrys whispered under his breath, "It hurt to hear other people call me Merlin, when the one person whose voice I wanted to hear, couldn't say my name anymore."

"Can I call you Merlin?" Arthur asked, "Feels more personal, after all this... you know."

Merlin's hands shook on his lap as he tried to supress the tremors of tears that threatened to overtake him, the shaky, pained gasp from his mouth enough to knot Arthur's stomach, "Yeah. You can."

* * *

 ** _A.N._**  
 ** _Ok! So~! We're using "Merlin" from here on out, though "Emrys" may be dropped from time to time._**

 ** _Did you see it coming? I tried to be as obvious as I could without a neon sign, but I have almost Gravity Falls-level of subliminal messages sometimes as far as hints in my writing._**

 ** _Also, did you catch my Witcher reference? Hehe_**

 ** _Thoughts? Questions?_**

 ** _I can answer as long as they aren't spoilers!_**

 ** _(I was actually going to wait on the reveal but the flow felt kinda natural so I went with it.)_**


	16. Memories Once Forgotten

"So... _Merlin_ ," Arthur tried the name on his tongue, it felt _odd_ but not unfamiliar. "The whole being-reincarnated thing... That was a lie?"

"For you, no." Merlin looked out the window, thoughts whizzing through his mind at warpspeed. "I never lied, I merely did not correct you when you implied we were _both_ reincarnated. I'm the same Merlin as before, albeit older and not quite as mild tempered as I was a thousand or so years ago-I never could perfect lying- so learned to I dance around it."

"A thousand years..." Arthur exhaled sharply, "how old are you now, then?"

"Let's see... you stop keeping track after the first two hundred years, but somewhere in the range of one-thousand five-hundred... give or take a decade?" Merlin chuckled at the confused and shocked expression that crossed Arthur's face.

"And all that time, you looked for me?" Arthur asked, a combination of wonder and somber etched in his face.

"Honestly, no." Merlin sighed, "After Arthur- well the king's- _your_ \- death, I just wanted to be alone for a while. I travelled the world, learned a few languages, I actually met some of the great pioneers of science and the arts. Oscar Wilde, Alfred Lord Tennyson, Rembrandt, Leo... You would have liked Leo, he was a real pleasure to be around."

"Leo?"

"DaVinci, he had a wonderful mind, and skill beyond compare. ...Actually, he even modelled a few portraits after me."

"Are you serious?!" Arthur yelled, excited.

"No, not really," Merlin laughed, his dark mood lifting somewhat. "We were good friends, though. I was the first person he showed his blueprint for his design that would later become the tank."

"You are dropping a lot of names, right now. Have any proof?" Arthur asked in amusement, checking in the rear view to see Wade still asleep.

"I was friends with Sir Tennyson once, very close, I have a book of his with a handwritten enscription to me... That was one of the nice things about back then. You could drift in and out of lives of those with such great talents and feel the smallest inkling that you had made a difference in their life.

"I remember quite well, even now... It was 1835, some time in the spring. I had taken a stroll in the botanical gardens, fallen asleep beneath a tree.

"I'm unsure how long I was asleep, but I found myself awoken by the sound of humming. He was in his mid-twenties, with a focused expression and nimble fingers- I only mention this because he was doing some kind of fidgeting with a coin with such complete focus that I found dexterous.

"He had noticed me on the other side of the tree from where he sat on the bench, but when I stood and straightened my suit he asked if I often took to sleeping in the dirt." Merlin got a reserved smile as he recounted the story, striking a hint of jealousy in Arthur. "Anyway, I asked him if he often interrogated strangers, and that made him laugh. I introduced myself as Emrys, from the beginning, when the king died I went by Emrys from that point on- at first to hide my magic and past, then because I grew accustomed to hearing the name.

"After an hour or so of polite conversation, he invited me along to a poetry reading with a few of his friends. That's what you did back then, you know, had artistic get-togethers. While I can remember their faces and poetry, their names have long since faded from my mind, since we never met after that...

"Anyhow, after the reading, everyone left and we were alone in the flat, he asked me to try my own hand at poetry. I assured him that I was terrible, but conceded that I would tell him a story instead.

"So... I told him our story. I ommited things, obviously, but it wasn't much more than was already known from the legends. He did get a new perspective, though, from someone who experienced it firsthand. He allowed me to stay in his home for a while, like a personal pet that told of my travels, though he promised to only write the King Arthur poetry.

"He expanded on these stories, took creative liberties, but some of the cores stayed the same. Like _Morte D'Arthur_ for instance... It was hard to read, having experienced your death firsthand, but he was able to portray it well and with respect. He gave me a copy of his work once it was published, he worked hard to track me down and send it to me.

"He was a wonderful friend, but he reminded me of you, somewhat. I recieved the parcel in the mail before I moved on to Asia. I can show you the book, though you may have seen it when you were snooping before."

"I do _not SNOOP_!" Arthur defended, huffing.

"Sure," Merlin laughed. "You believe that, Wade?"

Wade, half awake seemed to chuff in a way that almost sounded like a laugh.

"Did you bewitch my dog to turn against me?" Arthur joked.

"The longer you're on earth, the more you can feel things and put out signals... I think it's why animals enjoy my company, kindred spirits, I suppose. But no, my magic is basically useless now in these ages of technology, especially considering I was never able to master healing magic without going into necromancy and I refuse to do so."

"Pet Semetary logic?"

"More or less, my eternal life even feels in question now, though. If your destiny has come and gone, who is to say I need to be kept alive?" Merlin muttered under his breath, Arthur not quite catching what he said.

...

The rest of the ride was fairly quiet, save for the snores of the sleeping dog and his dream twitches. Merlin was keeping something to himself, something heavy in his chest that made it hard to breathe. He didn't want to tell Arthur about it, not yet. He would find out in due time, when his memories returned.

Merlin missed the old Arthur, the one who yelled at him and smiled at him and kept him on his toes, this one felt like a ghost- coasting aimlessly along with him. This Arthur, in his husk of self, was almost content- and that is what Merlin dreaded. Yes, he would get his best friend, the love of one of his lives back, his past, his destiny- but at the cost of possibly breaking this new Arthur who had the luxury of an uneventful life.

...

After unloading the few bits in the car and taking the dog inside, Merlin held fast to Arthur's shoulder as he was going to sit on the couch.

"The supplies are at my place, if you want your memories back. I can't wave a magic wand or chant a few words for this kind of thing, it's ritual level of complexity. It will take a few hours, tops. Think about it some more before you decide to do this."

"I thought about it the whole way here, Merlin... Emrys... I can't imagine the pain you feel, have felt, being alone all this time and seeing me die. I want to know everything, so you won't be alone anymore."

Merlin teared up, wiping his eyes as his voice wavered, "Arthur, _please_ don't do this for my sake. If this were to go bad, and you die by my hand-and not just by my negligence or lack of power- I couldn't live with myself."

"Then is there a way for me to remember without magic? Is there a way to jog my memory organically?" Arthur asked, crossing his arms to try to relieve the need to reach out and touch Merlin- hold his hand, grasp his shoulders, something to comfort him. "Like the life where I was a patient-"

"Artie-"

"Right. We had been intimate, somewhat, right? Wouldn't holding my hand or something trigger a memory?" Arthur asked, embarassed at what he was implying.

"It's possible. That's how Artie remembered, over time as he withered it reminded him of his first death, and some other past memories by proxy. It's possible, but there's no guarantee. Either way, I am not sure I am comfortable with this, Arthur. I loved him, all of the iterations of him, yes, but you aren't him... The end of his destiny proves that much."

"I thought we were all him, all King Arthur, just in different time and skin." Arthur murmured, stepping closer (as Merlin backed up instinctively), "Do you really not see them when you look at me? Do I stir nothing in you?"

Merlin's eyes kept blinking, face red as he tried in vain to look nonchalant when shaking his head side to side.

 _Of course he did,_ Merlin admonished internally, _he was already falling in love again with this Arthur despite his emptiness, the little gestures and smiles that all reminded him of who he used to be. But, perhaps, the memories were what was missing from his personality._ _Maybe regaining them, he would be back completely._

Arthur reached out, touching Merlin's hand which was clammy with sweat. He intwined his fingers with Merlin's, leaning forward and putting his forehead against Merlin's. In this moment, so close to him, he felt overwhelming peace.

Like when they were in the boat, when he reached out and grasped his hair. That familiarity, the intimacy, the feeling of the entire world slowing for that moment was beginning to be a feeling every time they locked eyes. Something like a voice in the back of his mind told him he loved Merlin, even though he wasn't sure of it yet without his memories, but he ignored these in favor of closing his eyes and breathing Merlin in.

Merlin's eyes fluttered closed as he breathed in Arthur's scent too, missing the grit and dirt of his King's but something so similar he exhaled shakily. Different, yet so similar.

"Damn it, Arthur," Merlin exhaled in and out shallowly, the closeness too much as he unwound their hands and leaned back against the wall to cover his face. "That's not fair. You have no idea..."

Arthur got a peek at the flared pupils in Merlin's eyes and felt his face twist into a predatory grin, he could feel this pull since they met. The confusion was what restrained him, but now that he was confident in his feelings, he was ready to confront his desire headfirst.

"Uncover your face," Arthur smiled wickedly, removing the hands covering his face and was surprised to find a similarly animal expression on Merlin. "Don't hide from me."

"Arthur, forgive me for what I'm about to do." Merlin's expression turned dark.

The shock didn't have time to register as Merlin pulled Arthur's head towards him and kissed him roughly on the mouth, teeth nearly knocking, pulling himself against Arthur's frame. Arthur moaned, closing his eyes and giving in to the incomparable warmth that sunk into his bones. He wrapped his hands around Merlin's hips, squeezing harder as Merlin's mouth broke away for air to gasp.

Merlin looked very shocked and vulnerable now, second-guessing himself, "I-I don't know what came over me, I-"

"Shut up," Arthur grunted. "You talk too much."

He went in for a kiss on Merlin's neck, deeply smelling the skin when an image, seemingly from his own eyes, of Merlin sobbing in a white doctor's coat, clenching a bony hand.

 _"Don't leave me again, Arthur. Don't, please!"_

The vision, though momentary, felt like a sledgehammer to the temple. He hissed in pain, falling to his knees. Merlin dropped to his knees, eyes welling up with tears again.

"Arthur! Is it a memory? I knew I shouldn't have- I'm," Merlin pleaded.

"Merlin, if you apologize I will hit you. Just give me a second, I'm fine. To be continued, promise."

Merlin blushed, snickering, "You need to sort out your priorities."

"Kiss to make it better?" Arthur muttered cheekily through a pained expression, to which Merlin wrinkled his nose.

"How about we rest for a bit, huh, tiger?" Merlin whispered, plopping the two of them on the couch. "Best to avoid excitement in your condition."

"This condition is best for excitement," Arthur whispered with a grin. "I know it's stupid, but it's like my body misses you. I just want to touch you, hold you... It's like it wants to make up for lost time."

"I know what you mean." Merlin smiled, leaning his head on Arthur's shoulder. "Best we to take it slow, going too quickly without the control of the ritual guarantees death rather than gives a chance for it."

"Understood." Arthur smiled, "Is it too soon to call you a boyfriend? What with you being in love with me over a _thousand years_ and all. I kinda wanna tell the boys, knowing them they may already have a bet going."

Merlin, in an unamused grunt, did not object so Arthur proceeded to text his friends in their group chat.

* * *

 _From: Arthur_  
 _So, uh, I'm dating Emrys now. Just thought I should say, seeing as I know the two of you likely have a bet going._

 _From: Finn_  
 _Damn straight and I WIN! HA! :D 50 quid, loser._

 _From: Morri_  
 _To be fair, Arthur, I was only off by a week. Good luck with you two. Let us know when it is safe to drop by. Need to let the honeymoon period ramp out before we show up unannounced, hm?_

 _From: Arthur_  
 _Easy on the shotgun, we just kissed once. I have no need to tell you details._

 _From: Finn_  
 _ExcUSE ME, I WANNA KNOW EVERYTHING._

 _From: Emrys_  
 _I'm in the group chat now, uh, hi. :) We'll give you an update later, we plan on watching some movies. Feel free to drop by, if you like._

 _From: Finn_  
 _Oh haha ok Em ;P byeeee_

* * *

 _ **A.N.**_  
 _ **Another longer chap. I wanted to jump to the relationship part lol y'all have waited long enough**_


	17. Down Memory Lane

It was halfway through the movie about the Lady Amalthea, that Arthur began wondering how feasible it would be- as he worded it- 'remembering organically'. Sure, he was attracted to Merlin/Emrys, but though the pain he felt earlier was momentary how long and for how many times must he feel that pain to regain his full self again?

How many weeks, or _years_ , would it take to remember the better part of roughly 70 years between three seperate lives? And sure, Merlin could trigger some of them, but what would he do while waiting for the rest of the pieces of memory to fall into place? It could take a lifetime to do that.

Arthur glanced over at Merlin, who was engrossed in the film as he stroked the head of the gigantic dog lying across his lap. At that moment, Athur began to seriously consider ripping off the bandaid off all at once. He considered it, but decided to wait, if only to spend more time with Merlin. If it was as dangerous as promised, he might as well make the best of his time before that choice.

Arthur leaned over into Merlin's side, with a smile Merlin kissed Arthur on the cheek and continued watching the movie with his head on the blond's shoulder. This whole thing was sort of fast for the two of them, the sudden settling into a 'relationship', but the two of them were not without _history_ (even though it was only one of them who remembered the finer details). It felt _right_ , though, Arthur was sure of it. He had never felt this pull with anyone before, a need to just breathe the same air with someone and be content in that- Eve had been a passing infatuation compared to this. It was exciting, and terrifying.

...

 _The feelings were there, the heat between them was_ _ **definitely**_ _there_ , Merlin reasoned, _but without memories it felt manipulative and kind of gross about it, like he had some kind of upper-hand as the 'keeper of memories' between them._ His head, which rested on his now-boyfriend's shoulder, felt heavy.

Merlin's magic was like a dull knife, wasting away from disuse, but it could still influence others and their views of him. Was this even real, or the magic just pushing his desires ever so slightly until Arthur gave in? This unfounded thought made Merlin so sick to his stomach that he stood and walked to the back porch without a word, the cold air hitting like a wall as he flopped onto the stoop like deadweight.

A few moments later, the door opened as Arthur leaned in the doorway, movie silenced.

"Hello, Mr. Dark-and-Brooding, care to finish the movie? I know the memory loss plot may be in poor taste, but you must admit how good this movie is." Arthur joked half-heartedly, his own mind distant too.

"Did I force myself on you earlier? I keep getting this gnawing feeling that I shouldn't have done that." Merlin asked, wanting to get straight to the point.

Arthur sighed, closing the door behind him and sitting beside Merlin on the stoop.

"Far from it, quite frankly I would have if you hadn't. The moment was... heavy." Arthur chuckled a little, reaching out to run his fingers over Merlin's hair and twirl it between his fingers. "I wanted to touch you ever since the lake house, maybe before that. You have a calming effect on me, for the most part."

"I feel like it's somwhat of an unfair situation, I remember so much more than you do about your own past. As you know, the problem with being human is we see everything through our own perspective- no two people experience the same thing during the same event. I don't know what was going on in your mind in all those memories, I only know what I saw and felt. I just don't want to push my view of what happened as all fact."

Arthur paused for a second, dumbfounded, "I appreciate that you care so much about that, but I don't think that's going to be an issue. I may not remember things, but I'm sure my instincts are good. Everything you've said so far, I'm sure it's true..." Arthur exhaled shakily, running a sweating palm over his jeans. "Earlier, the memory I had. It was a glimpse of us, on my deathbed I think, you were holding my hand and pleading for me not to go. I felt in that memory that all I wanted to do was hold you, reassure you, promise I wasn't going anywhere but I was too weak to do much more than smile. I feel really attached to you, Merlin, memories or not you're _my_ destiny, I know it... Even if I'm not yours anymore. Merlin, come back inside, Wade misses you."

Arthur stood and held out his hand, a lopsided smile as he tried to push the memory of Merlin's tears for Artie from his mind. How weird it felt, to be jealous of a self you could not remember. Merlin took his hand and they sat back down, returning to their movie. Their fingers were intertwined, but their minds were far away from each other with their own seperate worries.

Merlin wondered if it was selfish to do the Revocata ritual for the sake of them being on equal standing again, but who was to say would Arthur chose him again if he knew everything? After all, Merlin- the subject of many of Art's paitings- made him delve slowly into madness over the years as Art's time went on. _Was he actually a healthy choice? Perhaps not_ , he wondered, _but it was not his choice to make; it was Arthur's._

Arthur wondered on his own about the ritual too, but for a more optimistic reason. He truly believed that he would understand his feelings for Merlin if he knew everything, and he wanted desperately to understand. Only problem was, he didn't want to _die_ from this. Merlin would have to see another death, and if he understood earlier what Merlin was implying- Merlin's suffering over Arthur drove him to attempting suicide before, in vain, and if the destiny they shared was what made Merlin immortal, he likely would not stick around to watch him die a fourth time.

The thought of them possibly both ending up dead for the sake of memories, seemed unfair. He didn't want to face that possibility just yet. Arthur leaned into Merlin and tried to pretend they were a normal couple, just for a little while. He pressed a quick kiss to Merlin's forehead, a reserved smile creeping up Merlin's face.

"Do you think you would've stuck around if you hadn't save my life? You know, if I had never been in danger?" Arthur asked, half joking.

"I'm sure I would have," Merlin admitted. "No matter how I tried to stay away, you always appeared before me. Fate refuses to let me alone, I have to be by your side one way or another."

"I'm glad for that," Arthur admitted. "You make me feel like I don't need anything else; just you, me, and Wade- and the boys of course. It's nice to not feel like something is missing. I know it's stupid-"

"It's not." Merlin shook his head, his voice small. "It's not stupid... I missed you _so_ much, Arthur. You have no idea..."

Arthur remembered the story of Art's portraits, made a mental note to look them up, and nodded, "I have a feeling I know... Somewhere in my mind. I feel like I know exactly what you mean."


	18. Remnants of Art

_**If you would like to see the 6 paintings that remain of Art Thithe, referred to in chapter below, visit this chapter on my wattpad edition of this story!**_

* * *

Eventually, when Merlin fell asleep, Arthur went into the kitchen, pulling up a seat at the small table to look on the internet via his phone for these people Merlin mentioned. Surely, Art at least, had some surviving paintings that could give hints towards their shared past. He found them, alright, under an article titled "Art Thithe- the Man Who Paints a Memory" in an online newspaper archive from decades ago, he read it aloud under his breath.

"Nearly 50 years ago, lived a man named Stuart 'Art' Thithe who according to an article written around the time of his death had a compulsion to paint the same man over and over again. Though he admitted his early works contained mainly landscapes of the countryside, castles, and bodies of water, somewhere around his 20th birthday he began drawing the man in his portraits who he has named Merlin. When asked about the identity of the subject, he could not place where he had met him but was insistant that he would meet the man, if he kept painting and could remember. You can see the 7 paintings which survived the studio bombing at our gallery this-"

Arthur stopped, finding his hands clenched nervously in fists, he smoothed them out and massaged the white knuckles.

The known paintings and their names listed together, the article mentioned that there had been landscape paintings too, but were never formally recovered. The 7 portraits at the bottom of the article held 3 seperate versions of the same man, in duplicate, the one Arthur had come to know as Emrys. The seventh painting, though, nearly made him leap from his seat.

The biggest of the portraits looked exactly like the Emrys he knew, the one sleeping in the next room. He nearly puked from a sudden wave of nervousness. _Had Art somehow seen how Merlin would look before he died? Was that even possible?_ With a sudden wave of nausea, a memory resurfaced.

...

 _He heard a bell chime, like a small trill similar to those in old shops over the door, then silence. The door, if it had been opened at all, was not closed and no one entered. As though from his own voice he heard himself ask who was there._

 _Turning his face from a sketch of a highland landscape, he looked over the rail of the studio's loft to the entrance. The door was closed and no one was inside. A chill went down his spine as he went down the stairs and peered through the window at the street filled with its normal pedestrians around this time of day._

 _His eyes drifted to the cafe across the sidewalk, and nearly choked on the air he breathed. The man from his portraits, or someone of his likeness, was sitting just within reach! Though his hair was tousled and curled, surely it was him! He took off his painting smock, threw it to the side and ran across the street, narrowly avoiding a passing automobile._

 _"Sir! Sir!" He cried, the man noticed him and scrambled to his feet, running at full speed away from him. "Sir! May I speak with you a moment?!"_

 _Ducking into an alley, Art clicked his tongue in distaste and crossed his arms as the man was retching in the gutter from having run after a full meal._

 _"I just wanted to ask you something," Art muttered, reaching out his hand to steady the man. "My name is Stuart Thithe-"_

 _"Unhand me!" The man growled, spitting out bile, before wrenching the arm away. "Leave me alone. Go back to your painting."_

 _He started to walk away as Art yelled, "How did you know I'm a painter?"_

 _"You have paint on your face." He whispered, slouching and sidling away from him._

 _"You look queerly familiar, you see, there is this person I've been painting for years-" Arthur insisted, following him._

 _"That has nothing to do with me," Merlin grumbled, trying to shuffle faster through the thinly crowded walkway._

 _"I'm sure of it, though, you're the same man!"_

 _"You're delusional."_

 _"Merlin!"_

 _Merlin froze, inhaling so sharp it twinged his lungs._

 _"That's your name isn't it? You were a doctor, a-a_ _ **sorcerer**_ _," he whispered. "Haven't you come for me? I've been waiting to meet you and-"_

 _"I'm not who you're looking for... Best to give up on it. There's no such thing as destiny, is there?" Merlin tensed, slinking away._

 _Art was heartbroken, but returned to his studio. It was then that he only focused on drawing Merlin, in hopes that like some kind of incantation, it would draw him back._

...

From that, Arthur was sure of a few things, Art did know it was Merlin somehow (likely from gut feelings and memories) but did not pursue him again, Merlin was likely to avoid Art from that point on, and Merlin had _lied_ to him about never meeting Art. That one hurt the most.

The bell on his studio door trilling for no apparent reason had been strange, but assumed it was an odd way of fate trying to push them onto the same path again. A path which Merlin refused to go down again. If they had met then, surely he did remember things over time, but ended his own life.

 _Why did Merlin lie?_ His mind repeated the thought over and over as he kept glancing in the other room to see if Merlin was still asleep. _What did Merlin have to hide that he had to lie about? What could he possibly have been afraid of?_

 _Was he afraid Arthur wouldn't believe him? Or he didn't want to show that rotten side of him that became selfish after King Arthur, then Artie died? Was he ashamed that he pushed him away to spare his own feelings? Or was there something else he simply wasn't saying?_

Morbid curiosity led him to an attempt to dig in deeper to find what Merlin could have been hiding. Like the real circumstances that surrounded Stuart Thithe's death.


	19. L'appel du Vide

**Painting referenced in chapter:** ** _La Miseria_** **by Christóbal Rojas**

* * *

After a digging a little deeper, he found not much else. He stretched his back and arms, stiff from sitting in such an uncomfortable chair. His mind went to Artie, it was a long shot, but he might find something if he dug deep enough _and_ got lucky.

He could check newspaper clippings, death certificates, and hospital records, and those were the only options to find any information that old. The census was handwritten then, and even if Artie had been a citizen, whose to say his name was even legible? The website he did locate, though, was fifty shades of suspicious (not to mention archaic), but it did give a list of names.

All he had to do was find an Artie. Somehow. At least, he hoped his name was just Artie, or included the nickname on the records, but was probably unlikely. The site was over a decade old, but it had _something_.

 _Artie Brown? No, died too late._ Arthur sighed, looking at the next list of names. _Bartholomew "Artie" Sutton. That was it. It matches the time frame, the only one earlier than the fourties with the nickname Artie. It was him._

The site gave him a name, but there was not much else to find. He didn't know what he expected, frankly. Looking up the symptoms and quality of life for those with tuberculosis soured his stomach. The thought he died that way once left a dull weight on his shoulders.

A shift from the other room and a calling of his name caused him to wake from his daze. He nearly closed the web browser with his last tab, when a page was recommended from his search history. A painting?

He enlarged it, entranced by the unbearably heavy feeling it gave him. It nearly brought tears to his eyes, but he was sure it was the influence of Artie's life that made him feel that way. The person on the bed, fading away from TB, and the man sitting at her side helpless to stop it. Arthur stared at it, quiet, until he heard footsteps behind him.

Merlin stood over his shoulder, and upon seeing the painting, sighed with melancholy, "Ah _La Miseria_ , wonderful painting, probably his best. Very good at capturing the moment... I'm sure it's a firsthand sight."

Arthur licked his bottom lip, a pained expression in his eyes, "Was it like that? It feels... _real_ , you know?"

"It's not in a hospital, I think, and the sanitarium was always well-lit..." Merlin swallowed thickly, "but the feeling is right. The pain that drains all emotion from you and leaves you with exhaustion. I'm sure people at the hospital knew or at least suspected our relationship, being as close as we were, but I dropped nearly everything to linger at his side. Some of the children drew him pictures and he had them pinned around the room... He was such a ray of sunshine... When he died, my heart died with him. At least, some of it did. I'm glad I found you again... Truly."

Arthur turned to Merlin, who had his arms crossed tightly across his chest. He didn't know why Merlin lied about Stuart- or Art, whoever he was- but he wasn't necessarily angry he just wanted to know _why_.

" _L'appel du Vide_... It's an old French saying I heard a lot during the time I spent in France after Artie's death. It was usually said in passing, but I personally felt it myself many times during the times I've spent alone. On one of my journeys, I spent some time by the cliffs in Dover. The first time I stood at the precipice, I had the strongest urge to fling myself from it.

"The feeling was... inexplicable, I could imagine my death from that moment- the wind, the fall, pain, then nothing. But then... the moment passed. As though it never happened. I think at that moment I just _knew_ death would not take me until I fulfilled my destiny. My destiny to serve the great king, whenever he should return, but with that gone... I'm sure nothing could stop me now if I wanted to." Merlin shrugged, letting out a nervous laugh at Arthur's wounded look of concern. "You needn't worry, an expiration date is much less daunting than desperately trying to fill an eternal life alone."

Arthur swallowed, uncomfortable, before nodding. He pressed his lips together thinly, the silence drawing his gaze to the window across the way, the avid waving from it from the jovial and familiar grin pressed nearly against the glass (with a tall figure standing at his side). It caused Arthur to draw a smile from himself, "It seems we have guests."

Merlin followed Arthur's gaze and he adjusted his feet, smiling weakly, "I'll let them in."

...

After a few minutes of their how-do-you-do's and touching base of Arthur's health and condition post-injury, the conversation turned to the sudden and newfound relationship. As Arthur was dazed, Merlin did a lot of the small talk.

Frankly, though, Arthur wondered if he truly had rushed into things. Especially given his limited memories on the person he now called his boyfriend. Though he continued to call him Emrys around his friends to shield the truth of Merlin from them, the warmth with which he spoke his name a few hours before had dulled just a little and Merlin could tell. They were all seated close together, but Arthur and Merlin weren't touching anymore.

"So, we dropped by when you asked us to wait- sorry about that, the anticipation was just too much for little Mora!" Finn laughed, elbowing Morri beside him.

"This idiot showed up at my place and insisted we come, do not believe his lies."

"Wet blanket, the lot o' ya." Finn grinned, "Anyway! Emrys, I was interested in getting to know ya. Admittedly, we lads talked more than you and my girl did, so I don't feel like I know ya well enough. Tell me about yourself."

"Just the broad strokes," Morrison nodded placatingly, looking to Finn. " _Right_?"

"Right." Finn pursed his lips in petulant defiance, like a child being forced to remember a promise they didn't want to.

"What do you want to know?" Merlin asked,

"Why Arthur? You seem like quite a catch." Finn asked, which earned him a playful smack from Arthur and Morrison both.

"It had to be Arthur..." Merlin reasoned, "It always was." He whispered, barely hiding the strain in his voice as he smiled.

A beat of silence passed, the gears of thought turning in his head before he settled on a decision.

"Do you believe in reincarnation?" Merlin asked, looking at Arthur's expression and finding it shocked but not resistant.

Finn and Morrison looked at Merlin with confusion, before they both slowly nodded, "Well, yeah - I guess so" the two said seperately but simultaneously.

"Then what I'm about to tell you may not seem as crazy as it sounds." Merlin smiled, exhaling as though finally relieving a weight from his chest. "My given name is not Emrys, but Merlin; you two and Arthur used to know me, in a place called Camelot, in your past lives."

"You mean, like, Knights of the Round Table? Lady of Shallot? That Camelot?" Morrison asked, trying to understand.

"I know how it sounds, but I can show you a glimpse of yourselves from my memory, to show you. It will expend a lot of my energy, but I feel it is important to let you know of this before any more time passes." Merlin insisted.

"Sure, I'll try anything once." Finn shrugged.

"I... Suppose I will too." Morri muttered, skeptical.

Merlin reached out his hand to touch their faces and whispered, "This might hurt a little... _Vos memoria ego praeterita per oculos_ ", his eyes flashing golden. Everyone but Merlin watched each other with apprehension, nope, they weren't hallucinating- his eyes totally just changed color.

Then, the memory came.

* * *

 _ **A.N.**_  
 _ **For any of y'all picky people who aren't fans of me using Latin instead of the canon Old English from the show: it's easier to conceptualize how Latin sounds when reading compared to Old English and it's easier for me to check the translations for accuracy because of my limited experience with Latin, thanks for coming to my TED talk. Lmao**_


End file.
